Ashes
by Pawprinter
Summary: What if Monty never had to remove his gloves during those fateful moments before Praimfaya? Bellamy never would have had to abandon Clarke and she never would have had to align the satellite alone. They would be together - as always. After Clarke wakes up after Praimfaya, she struggles to comprehend what happened. What happened? Set during 4x13.
1. Chapter 1: Awakening

**Hello! Thank you for clicking on this story to read. A few notes before we start:**

 **\- This will be my first multi-chapter Bellarke story. Originally, it was supposed to be a one-shot, but it turned out to be a lot longer than anticipated.**

 **\- I have this story all pre-written. I will try to have a consistent posting schedule. I'm thinking one chapter every Saturday until it is done?**

 **\- This story is set to be 4 chapters long, 5 chapters maximum.**

 **\- It will be a short multi-chapter. It is set to be around 15000 words.**

 **Genre Tags:** Romance, drama, angst.

 **Warnings:** As always with an angst story, there are darker themes in here. I don't want to give any spoilers, so if you are concerned about the themes, please send me a PM and we can have a discussion. Also, stronger language is used throughout the chapters.

 **Rating:** Please note, this is rated higher T. This is because of language used, as well as descriptions of gore. If you are concerned, please contact me and I will be happy to chat.

 **Setting:** This is set during the season 4 finale (4x13).

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 _ **Ashes**_

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Awakening**

* * *

Clarke awoke with a gasp.

Her heart rate instantly skyrocketed and her hands flew out beside her, slamming into the hard ground. There was a small splash as she hit water laying beside her. Not feeling the wetness seep up her sleeve, she concluded that she was in a protective suit.

Where had she gotten that?

Instantly, she remembered. It was the black protective suit that Monty had given her. It felt as if it was ages ago, but it really hadn't been. It had only been earlier that day.

Where did the time go?

She was thrown back into the past day.

Then, _nothing_.

It was almost like there was a large gap in her memories.

What happened?

Her head was spinning, and it was almost like she could see stars behind her closed eyelids. She could feel a throb in her head. It felt almost as if her brain was pressing against her skull – like there wasn't enough room. It felt like a migraine, but much worse.

 _So much worse._

She didn't want to open her eyes – she knew it would make everything worse. Her head already hurt too much, she didn't need to add more pain.

Her body hurt like hell.

What happened?

She couldn't remember. That scared her. It scared her to much that she no longer had memories that she should have. It was almost like something in her mind had _skipped._ It shouldn't have been this way. She knew that she was missing something.

Where was she?

Clarke thought back to earlier that day. The conclave. Stealing the bunker. Fighting against Bellamy. Going to rescue Raven. The race against time to make it back to the bunker. The long stare from Bellamy, a smile gracing both of their faces. The crash and the attack by Grounders. Emori's suit ripping. Sacrificing her own safety for the safety of her new friend, trying to make up for the time she was on the verge of killing her. The conviction to head to save Raven, even though they all knew they wouldn't be able to make it back to the bunker in time.

 _She could clearly remember the hours leading up to Praimfaya._

The arrival on the island. The plan to go back up to space. The rush and panic to get the oxygen scrubber, prep the rocket, pack the suits, align the satellite-

Clarke's thoughts halted. Her heart hammered at those words.

 _Align the satellite._

She could hardly remember what those words meant, but her body instinctively tensed up.

Clarke thought back to the last moment she could remember.

* * *

Raven, Clarke and Bellamy raced out of Becca's lab, into the radiation soaked planet.

It looked like what Bellamy imagined the Underworld would look like.

It looked like the world was falling apart, which was a fair statement since _it was._ The sky was grey, clouded over with ash and dust. The air was orange, the radiation impacting the sunlight and the atmosphere. The ground was covered in a mix snow and ash.

Clarke knew what was on the ground was heavily soaked with radiation, but she couldn't help but stop and stare at it. She hadn't seen snow like this – ever.

It was their first snowfall.

She laughed at herself. It was most likely acidic, toxic and lethal. Monty had put everything simple for them – assume everything was now deadly.

"The tower's less than a mile away," Raven began explaining, desperation clearly in her voice. She pointed to a distant metal structure, unmistakably visible over the low trees. They were all panting heavily from fear and exhaustion.

Clarke was scared.

There was hardly any time. They were cutting it close before the communication system on the rocket had blown up. Now, it was unbelievable how close they were cutting it.

It would be very tough – nearly impossible – for her and Bellamy to make it to the tower, align the satellite, and make it back to the group for take off. Not only would they have to make it there, but they would need to properly use the technology Raven had packed for them.

Great.

It would be close.

 _Everything was close._

For them to survive, they would have to move quick, work together and have a considerable amount of luck.

Clarke felt like luck was never on their side. She hoped it would be different this time.

"One more time," the mechanic said, crouching down to reach into her backpack. Clarke nodded her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Bellamy do the same.

Bellamy.

She was so thankful to have her best friend beside her in this time of panic. She felt like he was always by her side, no matter what. The past few months had been hell on earth, but he made it bearable. He had lead them and saved her. He understood her and supported her through so much. Of course, they had their moments of turbulence, but Clarke was always thankful he was around. She would never wish for him to be different – their clashing personalities was what lit the spark she felt with him.

God, if she ever needed support, it was now.

 _Thank god for her Bellamy._

"All you have to do is plug this into the junction box at the base of the tower." Raven handed Clarke a flat piece of technology. Clarke felt odd holding it.

This was their survival.

If they failed, they wouldn't be going anywhere. If they failed at implementing this technology, _they would all die_. Clarke had felt the weight of the world on her shoulders before.

This, somehow, felt heavier.

It was no longer just faces. It was no longer about the people as a whole. It was no longer about civilization.

It was about her friends.

It was about her closest friends. _They – and they alone – needed her to succeed._

Clarke felt her heart rate pick up. Her hands were sweating under her gloves. She gripped the disk tightly, but not with enough force to cause it harm. Just holding it made her squirm. She was holding their lives – their futures – in her hands. How could something so important be so small and so fragile?

Clarke didn't even know what she was holding – was it a computer, a disk, a flash drive, or a hard drive? Wait – was there a difference between those things?

Shit.

How the hell was she supposed to fix a damn satellite?

But she had to.

 _They had to._

Everyone had their jobs – herself included. They all needed to work together to make it to space and survive Praimfaya.

She just ended up getting a job that was a little out of her grasp.

"Sat-Star-One is the name of the dish," Raven continued, unfazed by the look of panic Clarke held on her face.

"Sat-Star-One." Clarke could feel her lips moving, but the words were hard to process. Her brain was reeling, trying to keep up with all of the information being thrown at her. It was all happening too fast. The wave of death was drawing closer and closer. Their time on Earth was decreasing at an exponential rate.

 _They needed more time._

She glanced towards Bellamy. His face was made of pure concentration, his eyebrows pushed together and his eyes slightly narrowed. It was hard to see the details of his face through the multiple layers of glass between them, but she knew him well enough to know that his nose would be crunched up, his forehead lined with wrinkles, his mouth set in a line, and his jaw tightened. He always minutely adjusted his face when he was thinking or concentrating on something.

Clarke shook herself and turned back to Raven. This was not the time to marvel at Bellamy. She would have the next five years to do so.

Now was the time for their survival.

"Sat-Star-One," Raven confirmed. Her voice shook with urgency, but her face did not show the fear she had. It was clear that she knew how close this would be, as well. She knew their chance of survival was very slim. Clarke handed the disk back to Raven, who put it back in the bag. "Everything is set."

It was Bellamy's turn to glance at Clarke. Just as his face was earlier, hers was set with focus and determination. A thin layer of sweat covered her forehead, glistening from the burning sun. Bellamy smiled. He wanted to crease her forehead again, just as he did moments before.

 _He wanted more time with her._

He wanted more time to sit together in Becca's office. He wanted to wrap his arms around her frame, holding her tight. He wanted to crease her face, brushing her golden hair away from her eyes. _He just wanted her._

Rolling his eyes internally, he turned back to Raven. He _would_ get more time with her. Five years of it.

Gods, he was looking forward to the time on the Ark. It would just be him and his closest friends.

And Echo.

Regardless of the traitorous Grounder, he appreciated the others that were going up to space with him. Even Emori. She had brought so much happiness and strength to Murphy, how could someone hate her?

Bellamy frowned at having to spend a long period of time with the Azgeda spy in space. He had considered her a trusted ally once upon a time, during their escape from Mount Weather. All of his respect and appreciation for her had turned to ashes when her actions had caused the death of Gina.

While he knew Gina was not the love of his life, she helped him heal. She helped him reach forgiveness and peace with himself and with others. She was a kind soul. She deserved a better life – a longer life.

He would never forgive the traitorous Grounder.

Yes, he may not like her. And yes, he may never forgive her. But, damn it, he would not let his dislike for her be the cause of the end of her life.

He never wanted to kill again. He never wanted to be the cause of someone dying. She was human too and she deserved a second chance.

Realization struck him.

 _He would never have to kill again._ He was going up to space for five years with some of his closest friends. He would never have to pick up a gun for the next 1825 days and force himself to pull the trigger. Even after returning, he had faith in Octavia that he would never have to go to war again once they were all together.

This was the beginning of peace. Of a new life.

Bellamy shook himself from his thoughts, turning back to the task at hand.

This would be the turning point of their survival.

 _It was life or death._

He needed to focus. He had five years ahead of him to daydream.

"Once the tablet is connected, the dish will align itself with the Ark." Raven broke Bellamy out of his thoughts. She looked him dead in the eyes, trying to convey the seriousness of the situation. Like he didn't know that already. "The graphic will flash green, and that's how you know it's locked on." She slowly rose to her feet.

Clarke felt sick. Adrenaline was rushing through her system and her ears were filled with pounding of the blood flowing through her veins. The adrenaline was making her acutely aware of her surroundings and her body. She could feel the shakes in her legs, feel the slick sweat on her forehead, and feel the stickiness of her palms. Clarke could even feel the prickling of her back, as her body pumped out adrenaline.

She had to do this.

One last mission before peace.

Her eyes flicked over to Bellamy.

 _They had to do this._

"When it says 'send,' hit send. The power up signal will turn on the lights," Raven zipped up the backpack and took a deep breath. "Well, that's it."

" _That's it,_ " Bellamy laughed. "We have got to be the two worst people for this job," he added, voicing the exact thoughts running through Clarke's head. Raven smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Any questions?" Raven asked.

"Yeah, why are you smiling?" Clarke questioned. In this time of crisis, she wondered how Raven could look so happy. It was clear that fear and panic were set in her features, but she looked more free than Clarke could imagine anyone looking in a time like this.

"Because without the comms, even with the power on, we still can't open the hanger bay door from inside the rocket." Bellamy felt lost. He glanced towards Clarke, who shrugged in response.

"How is that a good thing?"

Realization hit Clarke.

"She gets to take her spacewalk." Raven just smiled in response. Before any more words could get exchanged, a brighter smile lit up her face as she focused on an object behind the two leaders.

"Thank god! Hurry inside, we need to load the generator and then my suit." Clarke spun around, catching sight of Monty and Murphy. The oxygenator from the bachelor pad lighthouse was clutched in their hands, their faces strained from the weight of it. "Tell Harper to start undoing the clips on my suit. I'll be right in."

"Hurry!" Murphy grumbled as they disappeared into the lab. Raven turned back to Clarke and Bellamy. The three of them shared a similar look on their face – _thank god something is going to plan._ They were all relieved. Clarke hoped that the rest of their plan would run just as smoothly as the first phase had.

"Here's the pack." Raven gestured the Monty's bag in her hands. She handed the bag quickly over to Bellamy. "Everything's inside." He swung the bag over his shoulders and tightened the straps around him. _Their future lay in that bag._ The mechanic turned to Clarke. "It's going to take you two a good ten minutes to get back from the tower and down to the cockpit. You _have_ to leave that tower with 10 minutes on the clock, or you'll be left behind."

"10 minutes," Clarke responded numbly. She glanced at Bellamy, his eyes wide with fear. "We got this." He smiled back at her weakly. Just looking into his eyes, Clarke felt the boost she needed. She would do this for all of them. She would do this for their future. _She would do this for him._

They could do this.

"Go. I'll see you soon." Raven made a shooing motion with her hands.

"Any last advice?" Clarke asked.

"Run fast." Bellamy and Clarke shared one last look before turning away from the mechanic.

"Let's go," he told her. Clarke nodded, taking a deep breath. They both took off in the direction of the tower, the snow sliding under their feet.

* * *

 **I love the concept of Bellamy going with Clarke to align the satellite (you might know if you've read "Time" - one of my other Bellarke one-shots).**

 **Credit to "The 100" for most of the dialogue between Raven, Clarke, and Bellamy. Obviously, the conclusion of that scene has been changed to fit my story.**

 **Also, just to clear things up. This story will be flipping back between "present" (Clarke laying on the floor) and the "past" (covering 4x13 and P** **raimfaya). I hope this makes sense. I try to make it clear which scene is which. If you need something cleared up, let me know and I would be happy to do so.**

 **Thank again for reading. If you want to check out more, be sure to look at "Time," "Tortured Souls," "The Demons Within," and "Gray" - these three are my previously published Bellarke works. They are all one-shots, so if you want a quick read, be sure to check them out.**

 **Remember to review. I love feedback. I am new to writing this fandom and these characters, so if you have any pointers on what I can do to improve, let me know.** **Let me know your opinions in a review or a PM! Both are wildly appreciated! Plus, they might encourage me to update faster *wink***

 **Thanks again!**

 **Paw**

 _Follow me on Twitter for updates on my writing and "The 100" fandom (Pawprinter1)!_


	2. Chapter 2: Run

**Hi there! I decided to update early for several reasons.**

 **1) I hate making people wait, especially if I have things prewritten and ready to go.**

 **2) I loved this chapter so much - it was honestly my favourite to write - so I could not wait to publish it.**

 **3) Today was the first day of filming of "The 100" season 5! I am WAY too excited for this, so I had to celebrate somehow. PS - if you haven't, go check out their set photos from today (The 100 Writers Room on Twitter post them all).**

 **Note:** once again, some darker language in this chapter. Not much at all, but just a heads up!

 **Thank you to all of my reviewers! I really appreciate it!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Ashes**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Run**

* * *

Clarke groaned. The pain she felt was overwhelming. It was more than she had experienced in her whole lifetime.

She felt like she had been burnt _everywhere_. She could feel her protective suit was lined with thick blood – the suit not allowing it to seep through to the other side. She felt like she was just swimming in it. Her nose stung. It felt like she had shot liquid out of it, much like she had done when Wells told a joke back on the Ark. This time, it felt as if it was lava that had shot out of her nose, not water. _It hurt._ Her throat was dry, probably from the smoke that lined the air. Her legs ached, just like they had after she worked out too hard, and her arms hurt. She could almost feel bruises forming around her body. The worst of it was her head. Her head was pounding and the memories were extremely fuzzy.

God, what was going on?

She must've hit her head sometime. Possibly a concussion? With short term memory loss? She wasn't too sure. Regardless, it was obvious that her mind was not as sharp as she would've liked it to be at that moment.

All Clarke had clearly begun to remember was where she was. She was on the island, in Becca's lab. Based on the cool feeling of tile under her back, she deduced that she was laying on the floor.

Clarke also remembered those fateful moments leading up to launch.

She remembered speaking to Raven with Bellamy. She could feel the panic and fear in her stomach, almost like it was a hole trying to swallow her whole. She remembered turning to Bellamy, needing his support to be able to push through. Clarke remembered the bad feelings growing in the back of her mind, screaming at her to listen to them.

For a brief moment, she did. Raven's visions came true, would her mother's? Would she die from radiation poisoning?

Clarke remembered talking to Bellamy. She remembered admitting her fears to him about dying. He looked so broken, almost as if those thoughts had hurt him too. He managed to say the right words to calm her down, as always. He listened to her suspicions and provided comfort.

After Raven had explained their job to them, Clarke couldn't remember much more.

 _What the hell happened?_ Why wasn't she in space? Where was everyone?

It was clear that Clarke had been left behind. How was that possible? How had that happened? Why did she survive Praimfaya?

A million questions ran through her mind, but there was no way to get answers in her current state. She felt trapped in her own body, without even her mind to provide information. It was almost like she was back in the Sky Box; sitting in her cell, no human contact, no information on the world outside those four walls provided to her, wondering what was going on and if anybody was fixing the system failures.

She never wanted to feel this way again.

Curiosity and concern got the best of her. She needed to know what was out there, despite the pain it would bring to her head. She needed to find out what happened.

Reluctantly, she opened her eyes, but found that her visor was crusted over with a thick layer of black blood, with the exception of the busted corner near the top of the helmet. It was impossible to see out of the glass. The blood was so thick that light didn't filter through.

What the hell did she do to cause so much blood to escape her body?

The substance must've come from her mouth, as she could taste the unforgettable taste of blood on her tongue.

Metallic and salty.

She swallowed hard, feeling as though she might be sick. The taste was hard to escape, as the blood had filled her mouth not too long ago. She could taste it between her teeth.

Why was there so much blood? Why was she so hurt?

Her tongue was hard to move. It felt like she hadn't had anything to drink in ages. Her lips were cracked from her rough breathing and the dry air. Her throat was raw from breathing in the dust particles that hung in the air. Along with many other parts of her body, her lips were covered with a crusted layer of dried blood.

Clarke was thankful that she did not lay in total darkness. A single corner of the visor lay untouched by the dark blood, allowing some light to filter through. Clarke assumed that the corner would have been covered in blood, just as the rest of the visor had been, if it had not been smashed in.

From what she could tell, the outside world looked like a tornado had swept through it. She could see dust floating in the air, along with large pieces of ash. The air still carried the scent of burning wood and electrical fire. It must have been nighttime, as it looked fairly dark outside. That, or the ashes from the wave of radiation were in the sky, preventing the sunlight to reach the ground.

She was reminded of the time before humans on Earth – the time of the dinosaurs. They had been wiped out from the asteroid that caused a constant cloud of dust and ash that surrounded the planet. Sunlight could not penetrate the cloud and a large majority of the plants had died, taking the large animals with it.

Clarke hoped that this new Earth was not like that. She hoped that it was simply nighttime. If it wasn't, she hoped that the ash would clear quickly. If a similar disaster could wipe out such ferocious beasts, she could imagine what it would do with a petty human.

Clarke was scared. She pushed down her fears and focused on taking note of the damage done to her body.

 _Everything hurt._

Not only did her whole body throb, but it was clear that a piece of glass had slashed her forehead. She didn't know how old that gash was, but she could still feel the warm liquid pumping onto her cold skin.

She shivered from the temperature difference.

Her skin was so cold and clammy, covered in burns. The hot blood trickled down her forehead, spilling into her hair. She could feel it run down her neck and blinked furiously when it dripped into her eyes.

Clarke reached up to rub the top of her head, where she felt blood oozing from. As her gloved hand passed in front of the cleared portion of glass, she saw it was covered in red blood.

 _What the hell happened?_

What happened that caused her so much pain? What did she do to get so burnt and so cut up? How did she lose so much blood?

Clarke closed her eyes and focused on the last moments she could remember.

 _The rushing wind._ She could hardly move as the winds roared around her. Her voice got lost to the rushing air, sucking it away from her before she could even hear herself speak.

 _The darkness._ The wave of death had finally reached Becca's lab, extracting the light out of the air. Fire roared around her, removing all traces of life from the land around her. The trees turned to ashes – the wave of fire and darkness was unforgiving.

 _Fear._ She could clearly remember how her fingers tingled with adrenaline and how her face had gone numb from the lack of oxygen. The blood was rushing through her ears and her heartbeat felt erratic. She felt like she was falling, even though she felt her two feet planted on the ground.

 _Running through the woods._ The branches whipped past her, smashing into the glass that protected her face. Her arms stung from the violent whips, even though they were covered by the protective suit she wore. Her boots slid across the icy ground, the snow flying in every direction as she tried to gain balance and speed.

 _"_ _Bellamy!"_ She remembered screaming his name. The wind, the darkness, the fire, the fear – all were put behind her as she remembered him. She could still feel his name on her lips, as if she had been calling his name for hours on end. Just before the death wave hit, she pleaded to him. She pleaded for his love. She pleaded for his forgiveness. She pleaded for him to live.

The memories rushed back to her. They still felt foggy and unclear - she couldn't remember the details. Yet, she _felt_ them. She could feel the distant ghost of _absolute terror_. She could taste his name on her lips. She could feel the darkness hovering over her, encasing her in a cloud of fire and ash.

Even though she didn't feel like her life was in danger, she did not feel safe.

She swallowed hard.

 _What the hell happened?_

Clarke closed her eyes tightly, focusing on those final hours.

* * *

The trees whipped past their faces, branches hitting the glass covering their faces. Clarke was thankful that she was wearing the protective suit. Without it, not only would the radiation have killed her, but she would've been slashed by the trees around her.

Neither Bellamy or Clarke said anything during their race to the tower. Clarke chanted the satellite name over and over, under her breath. She refused to have the slightest hesitation on the name. If she forgot one tiny detail, it was all over.

Bellamy panted out short breaths, cursing the gods for being unable to wipe the sweat from his face. It kept dripping from his curls and into his eyes, causing them to sting and his vision to blur. He could feel it trickling down his back, driving him mad. It felt like it was a form of torture.

They knew they had to hurry, but the blinding panic had not set in yet. Bellamy was confident that Clarke would be able to realign the satellite. Clarke was confident that Bellamy would be able to work the tech.

They felt safe with each other, equally as sure that the other would succeed.

Yes, they were in a rush and a panic, but it was not consuming them. They allowed their minds to wonder to other things. Happier things.

All Clarke could think about was their future. While her legs were crying out in pain, her heart thudding, and her lungs burning, she kept pushing forward. She thought about how their whole plan rested on her shoulders.

Well… _Their_ shoulders. She glanced at Bellamy, who had kept the same pace as her.

She knew from experience that he could move faster than her – he had such long strides. Yet, he had stayed behind with her, at her pace. Part of her loved the fact that he had held back to be with her – that was her heart speaking. More sensibly, she wanted to yell for him to _hurry the hell up_ because they didn't have a moment to waste. Clearly, that was her brain. Usually, she gave in to that part of herself, but refrained from doing so at that moment. Just being beside him brought her so much strength and comfort, she would be crazy if she were to give this up.

Not too long ago, she had told Bellamy that to be a good leader and a good person, he had to use both your head and heart. She felt that she had used her head too often recently – she _wanted_ to use her heart. So, she kept her mouth shut and allowed Bellamy to stick by her side.

She couldn't help but think of their future. While she was panicked and scared, she couldn't peel her thoughts away from the time they would spend together on the Ark. Earlier that day, she had almost said it.

 _She had almost told him that she had fallen for him._ She had almost whispered those three simple words.

 _I love you._

Clarke wasn't sure when that had happened. When did he go from the person she despised to the person that understood her best? When did he go from an enemy, to an ally, to a friend, and now to the love of her life?

She didn't care. She didn't care about pinpointing the exact moment she had changed her opinion and feelings towards Bellamy. All she knew was that he was one of the most important people in her life. Hell, he was probably the most important. He held a large part of her soul. He was a large part of her heart. Of course, she loved her mother and she loved her friends, but Clarke was aware that she was willing to sacrifice them on so many occasions.

But she was never willing to sacrifice Bellamy.

The time the Mountain Men had bombed Tondc and Clarke had known about it, she was willing to let hundreds die to keep Bellamy safe. She had hated herself for it afterward, but it was clear that her choices under pressure were to keep him safe.

Clarke also thought of the time Roan had held the knife against Bellamy's throat. That was the first time she had seen him in three months. He had come for her and her heart was so full of love for him. Plus regret. There was a lot of regret for leaving him. The fear and desperation she had felt for Bellamy as Roan threatened to kill him broke her. Out of everything she had been through, that was one of the most horrifying moments of her life. The idea of losing the man that had been right beside her, through everything, had shook her.

Clarke could not get the the bunker out of her head. She remembered standing at the base of the stairs, pointing a gun at Bellamy as he reached towards the release of the door. He wanted to be with his sister – he wanted to save all of those people. He wanted to be fair. All she was concern about was saving the human race. She wanted to save her own people. She was afraid that if she opened those doors, anarchy would break out and the remaining people of the human race would be wiped out from poor decision making. As he reached for the lever, she had a choice.

Kill him, ensuring the survival of the human race. Or, let him live and risk humanity.

That day, she sacrificed the entire population of Earth to prevent her from shooting him. She sacrificed a whole species.

She loved him. He held a peace of her soul. It was clear she would always pick him first.

They had been through too much together. He was the closest person to her. They had their misunderstandings and their disagreements, but they always got back to each other. It was almost as if their souls had been brought into the world with the lone purpose of meeting again.

Clarke snuck a glance at the man running beside her. The pack hit is back every time he took a step, rattling the technology inside. His eyes were set on the snow under their feet, trying his best to keep a solid footing. He looked so focused.

Clarke usually wouldn't have been so drained from running such a short distance, but the snow was making her use muscles she had never used before. Running in the snow was an impossible task. It looked like Bellamy was struggling too. His cheeks were flushed, his breaths were short, and his arms were out to help balance himself.

She glanced down at the watch on her wrist. 14 minutes left until they needed to launch.

"Shit," Bellamy gasped. He had glanced at his watch too. They both slowed their steps so they could analyze the tower approaching their view. It was extremely close. Clarke estimated that it would only take them another two minutes to get there, leaving two minutes to realign the satellite.

"We have plenty of time!" Clarke responded. She didn't even believe herself. Her voice wavered and she bit her lip. They never had plenty of time. Bellamy was thinking along the same lines. He cursed Chronos, the Greek God of time. Why was he never on their side? Bellamy turned away from the tower.

He took a precious moment and stared at Clarke. She was red and sweating – both from fear and exhaustion. Her hair was stuck to her face and her eyes kept flicking around their surroundings, taking it all in. Even with all of this chaos, she was still beautiful.

"Come on." The both took off sprinting in the direction of the tower. His heart was breaking. They had T-minus 14 minutes to get to the tower, realign the satellite, and make it back to the rocket for launch. He had a sinking feeling in his stomach – one telling him that 14 minutes was not enough.

He was scared.

He didn't want to lose any of his friends. He didn't want to leave a single person that he cared about behind. He refused to spend the next years of his life, sitting up in space, imagining their skin bubbling and blood flowing out of their mouth. He would not think about how the life would flow out of their eyes. He would not imagine their bodies laying on the cold floor of Becca's lab or in the snowy forest. He refused to think of their bodies being hit by the wave of death – turning their once joyous faces into a pile of dust.

All he could think of was Clarke. No matter how hard he tried, his mind was filled with images of her gory death.

Bellamy felt sick. He loved her _so much_. It began as the platonic love, but slowly burned away to a red-hot _I'm in love with you_ love. She was his world, just as Octavia was. He had loved Octavia and his mother so much growing up, but that was it. He was hardwired to love a small amount of people in a large way. _She was his head._ The words had basically passed through her lips earlier that day.

He pushed the images of her dying out of his mind. He straightened himself, a cold look coming onto his face.

"You should go back," he simply said. His voice was firm – it was an order, not a suggestion. Clarke's eye widened and her mouth opened the slightest. She stumbled over her two feet as they raced across the forest. Before she could fall, he caught her arm and straightened her. "This is really only a one-person job. I can do it alone." Clarke glared at him and batted his hand off of her bicep.

"Don't do this, Bellamy," Clarke said, her tone harsher than expected. He was surprised at the amount of venom in her voice. She sighed, looking guilty for snapping at him. "Sorry. I just… You're stupid if you think that I would leave you now." Her words struck him. One part of himself felt ecstatic that she refused to leave him to do this job alone. Together. Just like always. The other part of him cried out – he did not want to see her hurt. The further they got from the lab, the more danger they were in.

He managed a smile.

"I had to try." Bellamy was sure that his smile came out as a grimace. He was willing to sacrifice himself, but not Clarke.

Never Clarke.

By the time they reached the tower, their watches read 11 minutes and 43 seconds until launch. They both glanced at each other, fear in their eyes. This job would've been a quick and easy one, if it was done by someone who knew what they were doing. Clarke knew that they would waste time fumbling with the cords. As Bellamy said earlier, they were not the best choices for this task.

"Sat-Star-One," Clarke reminded Bellamy. Her voice cut in and out, static echoing through their headsets. She realized that the wave was close – the radiation was already impacting their technology, just as Raven had predicted. Clarke hoped that she would not lose contact with Bellamy. Trying to communicate with someone without the headset was near impossible. She forced her fears down – now was not the time.

Without wasting anymore time, they both took off towards the base of the tower, where a panel of plugs was clearly visible. Clarke's leg fell into the snow, throwing her whole body off balance and nearly sending her tumbling down the hill. Thankfully, she was quickly pulled to her feet by Bellamy. This time, he didn't let go of her shoulder and she did not bat his hand away. His fingers dug held her suit tightly, pulling her closer to him. She took comfort in physically feeling that he was right beside her. They rushed towards the panel, ignoring the clock ticking down.

Bellamy ducked under the metal beam that supported the tall tower, releasing his hold on Clarke's shoulder. She rushed in after him. The thoughts of their future, her past, and the comfort of the man she loved were long gone from her mind. It was almost like a switch had flipped – she was solely focused on the task at hand. _Saving her friends._

While still running, Bellamy shook off the bag from his back, allowing it to fall right into Clarke's waiting hands. She ripped it open and began to rummage through the many pieces of technology that filled the backpack. _God, they all looked similar._ While she was digging, Bellamy flipped opened up the panel and began searching for the correct plugin. Clarke removed the disk from the bag and thrust it into Bellamy's hands.

"Here! Sat-Star One," Bellamy muttered, pointing to one of the ports. His voice crackled with static. Clarke tried to ignore the breaks in his voice. She tried to push down the fear that the crackles brought to her. _Please don't lose contact. Please don't lose contact._ That was her one fear – losing contact with the man that stood beside her. "Hand me the cables!" Clarke dove back into the bag, rummaging for the corresponding wires. She pulled them out, handing one end to Bellamy. She plugged the correct end to the computer Raven had given them, while Bellamy worked on plugging the correct wire into the satellite. "Ready?" He held the plug centimeters above the correct port on the panel. His hand shook the slightest bit, but there was no other evidence that he was frightened. His jaw was locked and his lips were tight.

"Do it!" Clarke urged, her breathing still strained. He nodded and took the circular piece, jamming it into the satellite.

They both held their breaths as lights flashed and the computer processed the new connection. The seconds that ticked by felt like hours. _They didn't have time for this._ Clarke glanced down at the watch.

Time was going by too quickly.

"Dish not aligned." The harsh words shook Clarke to her very core. Red lights flashed with the corresponding message. Bellamy was frozen to the spot, his muscles tightening.

"The fuck?" he breathed in astonishment. His eyes were wide and it felt as if his heat had dropped to the pit of his stomach. Clarke shook her head, panic setting in as well.

"What did we do wrong!?" she cried. Bellamy took a step away from the panel, his head shaking, and Clarke took his place. She unplugged the cable, twisted it and plugged it back in.

The same message and flashing lights appeared.

"No!" Clarke cried out. "No, no, no, no!" She was so frustrated and so afraid. She attempted this several more times, each time hoping for a different result.

Bellamy felt like he couldn't move. It didn't feel real. Time was flying away and their survival was slipping through his fingers. _His friends were going to die because of him._

Clarke was going to die. His eyes flicked to the woman that held his heart. Her eyes were focused on the control panel, trying anything to get the screen to read a different message.

The fear he felt broke him out of his trance.

He would not fail.

"Damn it!" Bellamy swore. He fell to his knees and began digging in the pack. He was hoping that there was another similar cord – one that Clarke had missed. He was hoping that Clarke grabbed the wrong cord. He was hoping this wasn't real. He was hoping for an easy fix.

 _There wasn't._

Seeing no easy solution, he felt like he was spinning out of control. He had no idea what to do. How could he save his friends – people he now considered to be his family? How could he fix this situation?

He felt sick.

"Radio Raven!" Bellamy called from the ground. Clarke stumbled away from the panel, gripping the radio in her hands. Her head spun. _This was not happening._

"Raven! Please tell me you can hear me!" There was no response, but Clarke pressed on. "Something went wrong. We did everything you said, but it isn't aligning!"

All that came back was radio silence.

Clarke had a sneaking suspicion that the radiation had already impacted their radio so much that they would not be able to reach the group at Becca's lab. It was only a matter of time until it took out the communication system between Bellamy and Clarke.

She let out a frustrated groan, her head slumping in defeat. Bellamy got to his feet again, taking the radio away from the panicking girl.

"Raven, how do we fix this? What do we do?" Bellamy closed his eyes and rested the radio against the screen that protected his face. He wasn't even sure if these messages were sending. Could she hear him? As seconds ticked by without an answer, he felt alone. It was just him and Clarke, miles away from their friends and miles away from their salvation. They were going to die. _All of them_. "Clarke, what do we do?" She didn't respond. Bellamy opened his eyes, searching for her grey ones. Their eyes met. Bellamy recognized this expression – it was one that he had seen so many times. Her face was one no longer filled with panic. She looked determined and strong. Where Bellamy knew he should find fear, he eerily found composure. "Clarke?"

This was the mask she wore when she returned to camp after killing Finn. This was the look from Mount Weather, right before she reached for the lever. This was her expression moments before she began the blood transfusion with Ontari.

This was the look of someone protecting her heart. This was the look of someone doing what was right for their people.

"You need to go." Her voice held no room for arguments. She was strong, set on her thoughts.

"What? No!" Bellamy snarled. "We're in this together." He took a long stride towards her, taking her shaking hands in his. "As always. We will do this _together_." Clarke looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn't say anything straight away. They held each other's gaze for a long moment. Her mask had slipped off, revealing the anguish and dread underneath.

"Bu-"

"Don't waste time – I'm staying," he insisted. She removed her hands out of his, crossing her arms across her chest in frustration. Just like Clarke, his eyes conveyed the seriousness of his statement. _He was not leaving_. Not without her. "Let's get this done. What's your plan?" Clarke let out a long breath, her face falling back into stone. Bellamy felt a similar stone expression fix onto his face and he pushed every emotion away from his mind.

"Manual operation," she admitted, pointing to the poster beside the plugs. "I will climb to the top. I'll have to align it myself." Bellamy glanced down at his watch.

It hit 10 minutes until launch.

He shook his head, his heart hammering in his chest. _She was crazy._ She would not have enough time for this.

"No. There's no time. We have to go _now_." He reached for her hand, but she moved out of his reach. Clarke glared at him.

"Go where, huh, Bellamy? Either this thing gets fixed or we die. _We all die._ Don't you understand?" Bellamy felt anger flare up inside of him.

"Of course I understand!" he cried out, letting his emotions get the best of him. Tears welled up in her eyes.

A single moment passed.

"I won't make it, Bell." Clarke's voice cracked and a lone tear escaped her eye. He growled in response, ignoring the pain he felt in his heart.

"Don't be stupid, there has to be-"

" _There_ _is no other way!"_ Clarke screamed. Tears were falling down her cheeks now. All Bellamy wanted to do was wipe them away.

But he couldn't. Damn those suits.

"Clarke, please." His voice broke. "I – I can't lose you." He took a step towards her. "You can't do this. _Please don't do this._ "

"You can't tell me what to do, Bellamy!" Clarke intended to say this venomously, but she couldn't. She knew these would be her final moments with him. She couldn't bring her heart to snap at him. Instead, she broke. She felt her straight face falter, her chin quivering. She unplugged the computer from the control panel and stuffed it into the bag. "I'm doing this. _You need to go back_." She lifted her head up to face him. Their eyes locked. "Please, Bell. I don't want to lose you either." Bellamy laughed, his voice filled with pain.

"You have got to be kidding me! Do you know what you're asking me?! You're asking me to live without you! You're asking me _to leave you behind to die!_ How am I supposed to live knowing that I could've saved you!?" A million emotions ran through him. All he knew was the he loved her and he would not leave her behind.

"I'm choosing this for myself," Clarke insisted. "This is my choice! I bear it so they don't have to."

"This is _my_ choice too, Clarke!" Bellamy argued. " _I bear it so you don't have to alone_. We are in this together."

"No!" Clarke snapped. They fell silent, each breathing heavily. Bellamy didn't know what to say to get her to stay, Clarke didn't know what to say to get him to leave. "Bellamy, you can't, I-"

" _I love you!_ " Bellamy cried out. Clarke fell silent, her face filling with shock. Bellamy was sure his face mirrored hers – he was just as shocked as she was that he had admitted his love. "I love you, Clarke. I am not leaving you to die alone. _We are doing this together._ " Her eyes were still wide with his admission. She didn't move from her spot and her eyes were locked on his.

Bellamy knew she loved him too. She didn't have to say the words. She had shown it through her actions over their time together. The pointed looks. The soft smiles. The light touches. The constant worry for the other. The hugs. The words exchanged.

She didn't need to say anything.

He already knew.

Without another word, Bellamy picked up the radio.

"Raven, if you can hear me, _leave_. Do it now. We aren't going to make it back." He glanced at Clarke. A beat passed. "Don't wait for us," he said, sealing their fate. With those simple words, Bellamy gave up any hope of surviving. He was going to die. _Clarke was going to die._ He felt his mouth go dry.

At least they would be together.

He felt as if he had cheated death long enough. Too many people had died – too many people that didn't deserve death.

He deserved it.

Bellamy grabbed the pack from Clarke's hands, stuffing the radio inside. He swung it onto his back and began to walk towards one of the legs of the tower. He would do this without her.

"Let's do this together," Clarke said, echoing his thoughts. She walked up beside him, her face hard as rock – void of emotion. Yet, as Bellamy glanced at her eyes, he could tell.

 _I love you, too,_ they seemed to say.

They took another moment to stare into each other's eyes before they broke apart. There was no time for their goodbyes. There was only time to fix the satellite and save their friends.

Even though she never replied, Bellamy knew. He knew she loved him. That was good enough for him.

They began to climb.

* * *

 **I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. Like I mentioned it before, it was so much fun to write. I hope you guys enjoyed reading it just as much as I did writing it!**

 **A few closing notes:**

 **1) I absolutely adore Bellamy's love for Greek mythology. I've always been a fan of Greek myths, so I try to use this as much as possible. I thought I should just point out Bellamy's constant referral to "gods" and mentions of specific deities.**

 **2) I also wanted to mention that, while writing this chapter, the script from 4x11 had just been released. This script included the scene where Bellamy has just reached the switch to open the bunker doors and Clarke pulled the gun on him. There is lots of mentions on Clarke's relationship to Bellamy in this scene. If you haven't read it, please do so (it's a great Bellarke read - it can be found on The 100 Writers Room Tumblr). I read this script and it inspired some things in this chapter (Clarke mentioning that Bellamy holds a piece of her soul).**

 **3) I just wanted to point out that in one paragraph above, Bellamy mentions that he refuses to leave any of his friends behind because he would spend the next several years imagining their deaths and suffering. I wanted to point this out because I was thinking of the actual plot line of the show when writing this... Bellamy is totally sitting on the Ark, thinking about how he left Clarke to die. Haha. I hope the feels just hit you.**

 **4) I tried to play on the head/heart speech Clarke gave in 4x13 in this chapter. It's a beautiful scene and I wanted to pay homage to that.**

 **5)** **Also, I wanted to mention that one of Clarke's biggest fear in this chapter is losing contact with Bellamy... Hahahaha. I hope people caught on to this paragraph. I was hoping to hit the feels with this one too because Clarke DOES lose contact with Bellamy in the show FOR 6 YEARS. Juuuuuuust saying.**

 **I hope everyone understands why Clarke is snappy and harsh in this chapter. I think she would try her best to push Bellamy away, trying her best to save him. Even though she was harsh, she isn't trying to be rude. She's just trying to save him, in the quickest and easiest way. I hope this makes sense and that you guys understand my reasoning behind her words and actions. I debating on changing it, but I just felt like it fit with her character.**

 **I'm not too sure on my next update, because apparently I can't hold a consistent schedule. It'll for sure be up in one week, but most likely it'll be earlier. Keep your eyes open! If you want to be notified as soon as I have posted, put me on alerts or put this story on alerts!**

 **Once again, thank you to all of my reviewers, favourites, and followers. The support on this story has been great - thank you again!**

 **Please give me some feedback! I absolutely love reading opinions. As I mentioned before, this is my first multi-chapter fic for this fandom. Let me know how I'm doing! I appreciate all reviews. Feel free to give me feedback in a review or a PM. Both are lovely.**

 **Thanks for reading. See you soon!**

 **Paw**


	3. Chapter 3: Race Against Time

**Surprise! I know I said a week, but I couldn't wait that long. This is actually hilarious because I just messaged all of my reviewers to not expect an update until later next week.**

 **Well...**

 **I'm a liar.**

 **Anyways, here is the next chapter. I really enjoyed writing this one. Drama and panic are always fun to explore.**

 **Warnings:** As I mentioned earlier, there is more gore in this story than my other ones. I try to keep it T level, but it is always so hard to judge. If you have any concerns, message me and we can have a chat. Also, if you think that I have depicted it too much, let me know and I will either adjust the rating or edit the chapter. Also - language, once again.

 **Note:** I just wanted to note that this chapter has a bit more science than I usually put. If you don't understand something, it's most likely because it is a scientific word. I didn't go crazy with terms and facts, but I thought I should mention this before. If you actually want to know more, please message me. I'm a science nerd and love to talk.

 **Other than that, I don't have any more notes. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Ashes**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Race Against Time**

* * *

Clarke reached up to rub her head through the hazmat suit that still surrounded her body. She didn't want to remove the helmet yet – she wasn't too sure the conditions outside weren't harmful.

She rolled her eyes.

Of course they were harmful. The world just got burnt by a wave of radiation. Was there even anything else higher up on the 'harmful' scale?

Clarke sighed, eyeing the gap in the helmet. Even though there was a break in the glass, she felt safer with a layer between her body and the outside world.

The break must've meant that the world was survivable. Otherwise, she would've been dead and turned to ashes at that point. Keeping the helmet on wasn't really about being safe – it was about comfort.

It reminded her of when she was little. Her little blanket. She would take the ratty thing everywhere, much to the dismay of her parents. They tried to assure her that they would buy her a new one – a better one. They had the money and the power to do so, after all. Plus, the torn and dirty purple blanket that Clarke never left the house with apparently caused whispers among the people. Were the Griffins running out of money? The people would grasp at anything to start a rumour. Clarke couldn't blame them – there wasn't much else to do on a floating piece of metal.

That purple blanket was her safety. It protected her from the harsh stares of the people. It protected her from the monsters under the bed. It protected her from the boogey-man that would snatch naughty little children and float them. It was her safety blanket, just like that layer of glass was.

Who knew what was lurking outside? Who knew what the radiation had done to the Earth that she used to know so well?

She had learned about the effects of radiation while training to become a doctor on the Ark. It was an important part of her previous life and it came in handy over the last few months on the ground. On the Ark, they were constantly exposed to solar radiation, as well as the potential for the extremely harmful x-rays and gamma rays if the protective shell of the space stations failed. It was a problem that the generations on the ground hadn't had to deal with, as their atmosphere filtered out these harmful rays. They had learned pretty quickly that living in space was not easy.

Clarke laughed internally. More recently, she had been dealing with radiation on the ground. The ground had its own radiation problems – probably more than what she had experienced on the Ark. She was thankful for her training. Many wouldn't have survived without it. The word radiation was not an abnormal word anymore – she must've said it at least a dozen times each day. _How much radiation was on Earth? Was Earth survivable? Should she irradiate Mount Weather? How much radiation could their bodies metabolize? What were the properties of Nightblood that allowed for successful bonding with the Flame and prevent damage from radiation? How much time until the radiation killed them? When would Praimfaya hit?_

Her life was consumed and dictated by that word.

Radiation. Irradiate. Ionic, non-ionic. Harmful, non-harmful. Gamma. X-ray. Solar.

She could talk about the stupid stuff all day. Earth apparently had an abundance of it now.

Clarke knew enough about radiation to know she should be dead. She knew that she should've looked like Baylis did back at Becca's lab.

She shivered at the memory. The thought of killing that man in such a horrible way had left a mark on her, just as every other death she had a part in. She may not be physically marked like those from Trikru, but she was still scarred.

Clarke couldn't get over the fact that she should've been dead. Her body should have exploded from the amount of radiation she had been exposed to, her insides should have liquefied, and her DNA should have been ripped apart.

But she wasn't dead.

In fact, she felt decent. Her body felt as if it had been sunburnt, signalling that the high level radiation had hit her body. Her skin was dry and cracked, peeling away in some places. Blisters lined her body. She knew that she had internal damage from the black blood that covered the glass – she now knew it had come from her mouth.

She should be dead.

It wasn't a question. It was a fact. _She should be dead._

Why wasn't she?

She tried to sit up, but fell back to the ground with a loud groan. Her head spun and she saw stars behind her closed eyes.

Definitely a concussion.

Hopefully it wasn't serious. She needed to get moving. She needed to look for other survivors. She needed to learn this new world.

There was so much to do. There was so much to see. The same feeling that she had when she landed on Earth for the first time had bubbled up in her stomach. The need to get moving. The need to survive.

Laying there was not helping anyone.

Clarke realized what had happened. She understood what must've happened that caused her to be laying on the floor of Becca's lab, amidst all of the destruction and chaos.

She never made it back to the ship. _That's why she wasn't in space._

She sacrificed herself.

She remembered the failure of the mechanical alignment of the satellite. She remembered the screams of frustration and the gut wrenching panic. Her hands still trembled when she thought of the fear. She remembered her choice that she made, knowing that her friends needed her. Clarke could almost feel the rusted metal rubbing up against her rubber glove as she climbed higher and higher.

 _How did she survive Praimfaya?_

Before she could entertain that thought further, realization struck her. The memory had struck her so hard that if she was standing up, she would've had to double over.

 _Bellamy._

He was right there beside her, the whole time. She remembered _their_ failure of the mechanical alignment of the satellite. She remembered _his_ screams of frustration and the panic set in _his_ eyes. She remembered her choice that she made, but she also remembered his. _"This is my choice too, Clarke! I bear it so you don't have to alone. We are in this together."_ His words still echoed in her ears.

Where was he? Did he survive?

She couldn't think of any reason why she would survive and he wouldn't. If anything, he would be more likely to survive the influx of radiation. He had spent his early life living in Factory Station. While she had the luxury of living in Alpha Station, where maintenance was always up to the highest standards, he did not. Factory Station never had full repairs and their technology was much older. Due to this, his exposure to radiation was higher growing up, thus developing his system better.

Clarke shook herself. This was not the time to dive into her knowledge that was needed for medical training on the Ark. _It was time to survive._

She tried to sit up again, but didn't do much better than her last attempt. Her vision swam and she could feel the throb on her forehead.

 _Damn._

She laid back down gingerly, careful not to disturb her head more. Her thoughts turned to Bellamy.

She wouldn't be able to rest until she found him. She needed him. They needed each other if they were going to survive the ground.

If they could survive, who knows what was out there. Who knows who else survived? Those same thoughts kept running over and over in her head, setting her blood rushing and her adrenaline pumping.

Clarke tried to push the panic out of her system, instead focusing completely on Bellamy. She thought of his messy hair and how slicked back it had been when they first landed on Earth. That was the first time she had met him and assumed that hairstyle was his normal. God, was she ever wrong. She had never seen his straight hair again, thank goodness. The curls were apart of Bellamy. She actually hadn't seen his curls in awhile – they were trapped under the helmet.

She thought of his eyes. She used to think brown was a boring eye colour – she much preferred grey or blue. Not many people on the Ark had light coloured eyes – it was, after all, a recessive trait. They were rare, which made them interesting. Then, she met Bellamy. At first, his eyes were nothing special. But then, one day, it hit her – his eyes were some of the most beautiful she had ever seen. _God, when did that start?_ What people used to say about eyes was true when it came to Bellamy – eyes truly were the pathway to the soul. Every emotion he felt could be seen through his eyes. There were so many colours within them– amber, black, and various shades of brown, ranging from coffee and cream to dark chocolate. They were truly mesmerizing.

It was almost like a switch flipped. Clarke's heart jumped out of her chest when she quickly thought back to those moments before the wave hit.

 _He had told her that he loved her._

She had been so distracted and focused that she never repeated those words back to him. She was so surprised and shocked at his confession.

God, she was so stupid. She should've said something back. She just had so much going on, she had been so focused on the task at hand, she had been so surprised.

 _She loved him too._

Where was he?

"B-" Her throat was scratchy and hoarse, preventing the words to form. "Bell?" she called, her voice weak. There wasn't an answer. She tried clearing her throat. "Bellamy?!" Her voice was stronger this time. Her throat was so dry, having all of the moisture of the air sucked out by the fire.

Where was he? She originally assumed he was in the room with her, knocked out, but now she wasn't so sure. She couldn't sense his presence. How did she get back to the lab? Was it possible that Bellamy could be in a different section of the building? Did they get separated on the way back? Was he still at the tower?

She tired to remember the final moments leading up to Praimfaya.

* * *

The tower looked taller the more that they climbed it. It felt like every rung they grasped, two more were added. No progress was being made and they were running out of time.

Clarke had imagined dying many times more than she would admit. Too many times had she narrowly escaped death. She knew that sooner or later, the icy hands of death would latch on to her and never let her go.

She deserved it.

She remembered all of the mistakes she had made, all of the times death had just missed her. Her escape from Mount Weather, using the flame on herself without being a Nightblood, all of the shots fired at her, all of the fights she had been in.

Death was not something new to her.

Yet, she was frightened.

She glanced below her. _They were so high up._ She gasped, closed her eyes and clung to the metal poles tighter.

Bellamy, sensing her distress, reached up and lightly touched her calf. Clarke peered back down at him. She could see his lips moving, but could no longer hear him. The radiation had cut off their communication system. They could no longer speak to each other.

Clarke hated that.

It was one of her worst fears. Being alone when she needed someone the most. It reminded her too much of her solitary.

She could read his lips, even though he was speaking quickly. _It's okay! Just keep going!_ he seemed to say. She nodded her head and turned back to the metal structure.

The winds had picked up immensely and they could see the radiation cloud in the distance. It was massive. To Clarke, it reminded her of when she would drop food colouring into a glass bowl of water. The colour looked like a cloud at first, but would spread and diffuse quickly. Praimfaya reminded her of that. Except, Praimfaya was death and food colouring was fun.

It was worse than anything she could've ever imagined.

 _They were going to die._

Clarke began to climb again.

Bellamy was scared too. As Clarke climbed a few paces ahead of him, he couldn't help but remember the moments he shared with her. All of the times that they had worked together. All of the times they had understood each other.

He would never forget the first time he had fallen in love with her. Truly, undoubtedly, fallen in love. It was the first time he had been hugged by her. It was the first time he had been hugged by anyone other than Octavia or his mother.

It was the first time he felt as if someone other than his family had cared about him.

That was the day they had been reunited. She had closed the dropship doors on him and been captured by the Mountain Men. Finn and himself had begun the hunt for their friends while she had escaped the mountain.

That moment was beautiful – it was filled with peace and love.

Their reunion was one of his favourite memories. It was one of the things that kept him going and gave him hope when she had left for three months.

He was looking forward to another one of those soul capturing hugs.

Bellamy could still clearly remember the way she flew into his body, her arms winding around his back. They were both so battered and bruised, but they both did not care for the pain that their contact had caused. It had taken a moment for him to fully absorb and understand the situation before winding his arms around her small frame.

Octavia had chuckled at them. He had felt happy – his two favourite girls were safe and within arms reach.

That was when Bellamy realized he loved Clarke. Thinking of experiencing life without her had made him understand that they were no longer just friends for survival. They had chosen to be friends. _They had chosen to be together._

His thoughts were interrupted with a loud bang. The sound of rushing air was louder than the turmoil of the radiation wave. He quickly spun to look in the direction of Becca's lab.

The rocket.

They had launched.

The reality of the situation hit Clarke in that moment.

She would never see her mother again. She would never see her friends again. She would never get to hear Raven's mechanical lingo, she would never get to hear Emori and Murphy bickering and giggling, she would never get to meet Harper and Monty's children, and she would never get to see Echo redeem herself.

She would never get her happy ending. She wouldn't spend the next five years at Bellamy's side. She wouldn't get to spend nights curled up in bed with him, reading each other books on the Ark. She would never get to listen to him tell her Greek myths. She would never get her life with him.

She would never get her life.

Clarke swallowed hard.

Ai gonplei ste odon. _Her fight was over._

Her dreams would stay just that – dreams.

She glanced down at the man she loved and he stared up at her. His eyes were pained, as if he was thinking the same things as well.

"May we meet them again," he muttered, turning back to the spot where the rocket launched from. Clarke closed her eyes, trying to keep her tears at bay. She refused to cry.

Her friends needed her. She would not die for nothing. She would not be the cause of her friend's deaths. She would not allow Bellamy to do for nothing. She continued to climb.

"We only have 20 minutes until the wave hits us!" Clarke shouted. She didn't hear a response from Bellamy. The winds were too high and the rumble of the quickly approaching wave caused sound to be muttered. "20 minutes. Fuck."

 _They were screwed._

It wasn't long before they reached the top of the tower. Clarke plugged in the computer while Bellamy climbed higher to move the satellite. At this point, there was no time to waste. The reality of the situation had sunk in – if they did not succeed, their friends would suffocate in space.

Due to the communication system failure, Clarke read the diagrams and pointed in the direction for the satellite to be shifted. Clarke did manage to catch a few strings of curses fly out of Bellamy's mouth and his shouts as he turned the heavy metal.

"Left!" Clarke screamed. She pointed frantically in the direction that the large dish had to be turned. Bellamy readjusted his stance, hooked his fingers under the lip of metal, and pulled. His face was strained with the weight of it and Clarke could hear is groans.

When the graphic flashed green, Clarke screamed in happiness. Her hands flew to the sides of her head and she looked at Bellamy excitedly. He was leaned over, clutching the railing tightly. Without wasting any more time, she punched the button to send the signal. The graphic read 'sent' right before the screen shut off.

The wave was close. It was shutting down all of their technology.

Bellamy jumped down, landing beside her with a loud thud. He grabbed her in a bone crushing hug, pulling her as close to him as possible. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him equally as hard. For a brief moment, she felt peace and happiness. She forgot about their approaching death. She felt _safe._

 _They did it._

"We have 12 minutes!" Clarke heard Bellamy scream. Reality hit her again. She looked out at the death wave and felt her adrenaline spike. She shifted right back into panic mode. It may have been 12 minutes until the wave hit Becca's lab, but they were a mile out. It was much closer than 12 minutes.

"Let's go!"

Clarke didn't even know why they were in such a rush. They were going to die. There was no other bunker. There was not another rocket.

Where were they running too?

She guessed it was a primordial instinct. Fight or flight, as people liked to say. There was no way of fighting Praimfaya – it was time to run.

Time seemed to pass too quickly. They both fumbled down the metal structure. Just like before, Bellamy was below her. They took two rungs at a time, climbing down the tower as fast as they could without slipping. It was nearly an impossible task – their boots were wet from the snow and her gloves did not provide much grip. Clarke was impressed that they didn't fall to their deaths.

Bellamy reached the ground first. Just like before, he waited patiently for her. He could've took off running before she was on her two feet. He could've run faster than her.

Yet, he didn't.

As soon as they both were on the ground, they took off sprinting. The race back to the lab was different than the race to the tower. It was now life or death. Of course, it was a similar situation earlier – they had to realign the radio tower or they would all die. Somehow, it was different this time. It was almost like Death had his fingers wrapped around them, crushing the life out of their bodies. Before, it only felt as if Death was reaching towards them.

Death was more imminent and unavoidable now.

They no longer cared for slipping in the snow. The white substance was kicked up behind them as they raced towards their only chance of survival. Becca's lab.

Clarke hoped that there was a radiation proof room in there. She had prepared for everything, why not this? Even though it felt impossible, Clarke still had hope.

Clarke's feet slid out from underneath her, bringing her tumbling to the ground. Wasting no time, Bellamy hooked her under the arm, hauling her to her feet. She took off running again.

Not a moment later, Bellamy tripped on a hidden tree root. He went flying into the trunk of a dead tree, letting out a grunt of pain. Clarke spun around to look at the quickly approaching wave. She could see distant trees falling to its fire.

"Come on!" Clarke reached for him, gripping his hand. He steadied himself before taking off running, pulling her along.

Clarke never knew this fear before. The fear of losing someone to an unbeatable monster. The fear of being chased by death. The fear of melting away and being turned to ash. The fear of not saying goodbye.

Her heart hammered in her chest and she could barely get enough oxygen into her lungs. The air was filled with smoke from the burning destruction behind her. The thick air made her cough. It was getting harder and harder to breathe.

Clarke misstepped, her legs failing her. She fell to the ground with a grunt, smacking her head on a rock. She let out a low moan as the pain registered. Her head spun where her forehead hit the edge of her helmet. She felt blood trickling from the gash on her brow, where the loose glass of her visor hit. Her knee and wrist hurt from where she landed roughly.

"Clarke!" Bellamy called. He was right over top of her, his face hovering beside hers. "Can you walk!?" She was dazed, but nodded anyways. Adrenaline did funny things to the body. In any other situation, she would've stayed on the ground for at least a few more minutes. She didn't even feel the pain in her knee as she stood. "Let's go." Clarke wobbled on her feet, the world spinning in front of her.

"Wait!" she called, a tremble in her voice. She tried to take a step, but she stumbled. "I- I-"

"No time!" Bellamy cried. She took a moment to look at his face. Not only was he showing signs of exhaustion, but signs of radiation poisoning.

How had the radiation breeched his suit?

Clarke glanced down at his arm. Where he caught himself from falling on the tree root, a long tear lay. He must've tore his suit open when he caught himself on the dead tree.

Clarke swore loudly.

"No! We don't have time!" he wheezed again. Without another word, he slung her arm over his shoulders and began to run. She pumped her legs in time with his, ignoring the tipping of the world around her. She closed her eyes, trying to make it easier to focus on running. Bellamy was her eyes as they raced away.

Clarke couldn't get his face out of her mind. He looked _sick._ His eyes looked tired and bloodshot. His skin looked grey and blisters were forming where she could see. A thin layer of sweat covered his grey face and neck.

He looked really sick.

Clarke heard the groaning of metal behind her. She spun around just in time to witness the radio tower being blown apart by Praimfaya.

 _The wave was close._

She spun back to the front, trying her hardest not to throw up from her throbbing head and spinning vision.

"Faster!" she called to Bellamy. He nodded his head numbly and began to move faster, pulling her along. She fought to keep up.

Clarke thought that her lungs hurt before. Well, she was wrong.

It felt like her whole body was on fire. The pain she felt from running so quickly and the multiple hard falls, along with the increasing radiation had her head spinning. The smashed glass gave her a gash on her head, but also opened a pathway for the radiation to come into her body.

She could feel that it was having effects on her. She felt _hot._ It was almost like she had stood in the sun for hours. She could feel blisters forming on her body. Her limbs were swelling and her skin was peeling.

The wave was right behind them. Clarke could feel the heat on her back. Just as they were nearing the lab, Bellamy let out a strangled sob – one that sounded like he was holding back for awhile. He dropped to his knees, falling onto all fours. He brought Clarke down with him. She fell hard beside him, making her knee throb and head whirl.

Clarke glanced behind her.

The wave was getting closer.

"Come on!" Clarke screamed, stumbling back to her feet. She reached down and pulled on his hand. How was he so much worse than her? They were exposed to the same amount of radiation for very comparable amounts of time. "Bellamy! _Please!_ " He looked up at her, desperation in his eyes.

"Clarke... I can't." His voice trembled. "Clarke-"

"Fuck!" Clarke screamed. In a rush of adrenaline, she reached to the ground and hooked her hands under his arms. With a grunt, she helped him back up to his feet. "Let's go!" She began running in the direction of the lab, Bellamy stumbling right beside her.

She burst through the door, slamming it behind both of them. She released Bellamy, allowing his body to fall to the floor with a loud thud. He lay flat against the cool tile, not having the strength to hold his body up. She quickly followed him, falling to her hands and knees.

She coughed several times before blood flew out of her mouth, covering the glass of her suit.

Clarke no longer had the strength to hold herself up. Her arms gave out from underneath her and she landed on the floor hard. She could no longer see out of her visor due to the blood, but she could feel Bellamy's body heat not too far away.

The lights flickered and went out once Praimfaya hit. Clarke could hear glass windows breaking as the force of the wave smashed into the lab. Smoke, dust and ash flew into the building from the cracks in the doors and the busted windows.

The last thing she remembered was Bellamy crying out in pain.

"Bellamy!" she cried out. "Bell-" Clarke choked on her words. She opened her mouth to call out to him one last time, but she couldn't get the words out. She coughed again, letting more black blood flow out from in-between her lips.

Then, darkness.

* * *

 **Alright. So, a cliff hanger. Sorry, guys! It's just the way the breaks fell when I was dividing up the plot. It's evil but necessary.**

 **As always, a HUGE thank you to everyone that is supporting this story. The support is incredible. Actually, this fandom is incredible. Thank you so much for reading. A special shout out to all of my reviewers, favourites, and followers.**

 **Again, I loooooooove feedback. I adore it. I love it so much that I will name my first child "Feedback" or "Review Please". Just kidding. But, in all seriousness, I love reading what you guys have to say! You guys give me such great opinions and feedback, its amazing.** **I appreciate all reviews. Feel free to give me feedback in a review or a PM. Also, I try my best to reply to every review.**

Now, I have a question for you guys! In your review, let me know what you think happens to Bellamy. Also, what would you love to see from this story? Like I mentioned before, I have everything pre-written, but I am willing to listen to your ideas and (maybe) switch things around. Let me know! I would love to hear what you guys think!

 **As for the next update, I'm not 100% sure. I'm guessing that the next update will actually be in a week. I always say a week and post earlier, but don't expect that this time. I'll be away from technology for the next week so even if I am tempted, I won't be able to post. Haha.**

 **Thanks for reading. See you soon!**

 **Paw**


	4. Chapter 4: Ashes

**Hi, everyone! Welcome back! As I mentioned last chapter, I was away from technology for the past week so I was unable to update sooner. I hope the wait wasn't too excruciating, even though I did leave you on a cliff-hanger!**

 **Warnings:** I just want to give another heads up, especially for this chapter. I have mentioned this several times, but I wanted to say it one more time. Gore and mature language will be used throughout this chapter. I try my best to keep it a T rating, but it is so hard to judge! If you have any concerns or if you feel the rating should be different, let me know!

 **I took all of your feedback to my question on the last chapter into consideration. For the past week, I flipped back and forth between several different options on how to wrap this story up. I hope you enjoy my decision.**

 **If you're reading this only a few hours after publication and have sent me a review or a PM, this next message is for you! I will be getting around to answering all of the messages you guys have left for me. Thank you so much! It was great to get back to wifi and have floods of awesome feedback. I try my best to respond quickly, but (like I mentioned) this is the first time in a week that I've been able to do a whole lot with technology. You'll see those responses within the next day or two. T** **hank you for your patience!**

 **Anyways, enjoy!**

* * *

 **Ashes**

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Ashes**

* * *

She survived Praimfaya. Impossible, yet true.

How?

Clarke felt as if the answer was simple after seeing the black blood that covered the screen on her helmet.

Nightblood.

The Nightblood solution had worked. She had survived because of her scientifically altered blood. The black blood that had protected so many Commanders and countless others had protected her as well.

Her mother had done it. She found a solution.

Clarke had to swallow back bile. With the realization that Nightblood had worked, the realization that they could have saved _so many more_ people followed.

They had to kill hundreds of her people.

They had to kill hundreds of Grounders.

Only a hundred from each clan had a place in the bunker. What about those thousands that were left behind, locked out of those doors? Without Nightblood, they had burned.

 _They all could have survived if they had the black blood._

Their blood was on her hands.

It wasn't a new feeling. She was Wanheda, the Commander of Death, after all.

Instantly, Clarke was hit was regret. She was hit with guilt that she didn't try hard enough, all of those nights ago, in Becca's lab. She should've fought harder to be placed in the radiation chamber to test the Nightblood. She should have known her mother would do something drastic to prevent her from being in harms way – she should have predicted it. She felt stupid that she hadn't. She felt stupid that she didn't test the blood that ran through her veins.

 _She could've saved so many._

Clarke swore under her breath. Her throat clenched painfully around the words, her voice refusing to work properly.

Clarke tried her best to put the feelings of self-hatred away. What's done is done, as her father used to say. She was not able to save the lives of the thousands of people that were locked outside of the bunker. She may not be able to change the past, but she sure as hell was going to influence the future.

She had a new planet to explore. She had resources to gather. She had survivors to find.

 _Survivors._

Fuck. Bellamy.

From her memories, she knew Bellamy was near. They had collapsed right beside each other as soon as she had shut the door. She remembered feeling the heat radiating from he body as the chaos around her faded into darkness.

She tried calling out again, but there was still no response.

She knew he was fine.

 _He had to be._

It seemed as if she was the one to have worse radiation poisoning between the two of them. Yet, she had woken up. It only made sense that, since he was in better condition, he would've woken up too.

 _Right?_

Even though he did not look well when she last seen him, she did not see him coughing up blood like she had been. In fact, she would've predicted the opposite. After evaluating their conditions, during the race back to the lab, she would've thought he would be the one to wake up first.

"Bellamy!?" Clarke called again. Her voice was still raspy, but it was not near how it was earlier. Her body was slowly repairing itself, trying to get over the radiation sickness. "Bella-" She stopped short, no longer able to continue.

Realization struck her.

Reality hit her like a load of bricks and it hurt like a bitch.

 _Bellamy did not have Nightblood._

She felt beyond sick from this statement. Clarke never thought that simple words could hurt so much. Her stomach was churning, her muscles had tensed up, and her head spun.

She was the only one left on Earth to have the blood that protected someone against radiation. _That_ was why he was impacted so much while they were running in the woods. _That_ was why she had woken up earlier.

Her heart sank.

What if not having Nightblood meant…

She didn't want to complete her thoughts. She forced her mind off of the images that popped into her head.

 _Blood everywhere._

 _Bellamy screaming._

 _Elevated pulse._

 _Flat line._

 _Cold eyes._

 _Unmoving chest._

Clarke clenched her teeth harder and forced her eyes shut so tightly that star appeared behind her eyelids. She refused to even consider the possibility that Bellamy might not have made it.

Ignoring her spinning head, she sat up. Clarke grit her teeth together, fighting back the wave of nausea that hit her.

She blindly reached up and undid the latches that connected the helmet to the protective suit. She fumbled for a bit, her hands still shaky, but quickly snapped open the clips. She ripped the helmet off of her head, throwing it to the side.

She took a moment to herself, focusing on stopping the spinning of her head. Her eyes were still closed as she took deep breaths, over and over.

 _She needed to get a grip._

Clarke opened her eyes. It was brighter out than she expected – she was still unsure if the darkness was from nightfall or ash in the air. She scanned the room. The lab was covered in soot and residue from the fires that continued to roar outside. The building looked nearly untouched, other than the debris in the air and blown out windows.

After all, it had survived the first Praimfaya untouched. It shouldn't have surprised her that it withstood the second one decently.

"Bellamy?!" she said. Her voice was growing stronger the longer she was awake. "Bellamy!" Her voice echoed around the halls of the empty lab. She could hear dripping water in the distance. "Bell?"

There was never a response.

She had a bad feeling growing in her gut.

Clarke rolled away from her sitting position, onto her knees.

 _That's when she saw him._

She felt her stomach churn.

 _Bellamy._

"No." The words slipped out of her mouth as her head reeled, trying to comprehend what she was seeing.

She didn't feel as if it was real.

She didn't want it to be real.

Fuck.

No.

No.

No.

No, no, no, no.

 _This wasn't happening._

 _This wasn't real._

But it was.

 _No, no, no, no._

Fuck.

He was _dead._

Bellamy's helmet had been removed and it was still clutched in his hand. His face was nearly unrecognizable. He was covered in radiations burns, and had several layers of skin peeling away. Where there weren't burns, blisters lay. His lips were dry and cracked, covered in red blood. His eyes were closed, almost as if he were asleep.

She knew better.

 _The radiation had killed him._

Blood surrounded him. It was a sickening realization that she had been _laying_ in it. She had _splashed_ in it earlier that day, when she had just woken up.

Fuck, she was an idiot. She faintly remembered seeing red blood when she first woke up. She had reached up to rub the top of her head and she had spotted the crimson substance dripping from her fingers when she had moved in front of the broken section of her helmet.

 _It was his blood._

She should've known. Her blood was black – she was a Nightblood now. Why did she even think the red blood was hers? She wanted to cry.

Clarke felt sick as she stared at Bellamy's corpse. The feelings inside of her – sadness, anger, regret, guilt – they were all burning like Praimfaya had not too long ago. She was washed with waves after waves of emotion. Each wave hit her like a punch to the gut. It felt like she was being torn open.

Honestly, it didn't feel like this something new.

Somehow, the blood of the person she loved always ended up on her hands.

 _His blood was on her hands._ Literally and figuratively.

God, where did all of the blood even come from?!

It was obvious that he had been coughing up some blood, as some of it had dried on his lips, chin, neck, and front of the protective suit.

"No." Once again, the words just tumbled out of her mouth. She couldn't comprehend what was in front of her. It wasn't real.

But it was.

Bellamy was dead.

"No!" Clarke sobbed, allowing some emotions to creep into her voice. Reality was hitting her hard. The waves of emotions were turning into tsunamis. _She was in so much pain._ "No!" She scrambled over to him, picking up his blistered head with her gloved hands. She pulled his body onto her lap, tears falling quickly from her eyes.

Her heart hurt so fucking much. Everything hurt. Her heart, her brain, her body. It felt like she had been dipped in a bucket of acid. The pain was eating away at everything she was.

Her heart hurt more than it ever had before. No pain in her previous life could've prepared her for this. Not even when she lost her father did it hurt this much.

She had expected that.

She had prepared for that.

 _Nothing could've prepared her for this._

She had never felt so much _pain_. Her heart felt like it had shattered into a million pieces. She felt pain shooting up her arms into her wrists.

Fuck, why did they call it heart break? Her whole body _burned._ She felt like she was being torn to pieces. She felt like her heart was being torn into pieces.

 _She burned._

She was accustomed to death. She had lost too many loved ones to count.

 _This was different._

She had fought in wars. She had battled leaders. She had killed hundreds. She held people while the life left their eyes. _She had watched and embodied Death too many times to count._

She had been ready. She had been willing.

She was prepared to die.

She was prepared to sacrifice herself.

God, the world couldn't even give her _that._

The fates refused to give her peace and happiness, ripping her future on the Ark away. She had accepted death – she had accepted and embraced the fact that she was going to die. She was prepared to die alongside the man she loved.

 _She was ready._

Clarke let out a scream of anguish as the reality of the situation finally set in. Sobs bubbled up in her chest, but she couldn't stop screaming.

Her throat physically hurt from her yells. Her lips had split open once again, allowing the black blood to mix with her tears.

She had been prepared and ready to die with Bellamy.

Fuck. Why couldn't the world give her that? _Why!?_ First they take away her happy future, then they take away her choice ending. The fates would not allow her to live with him, yet they refused to let her die with him.

 _Fuck._

How did she survive? _Why did she survive?_

She was all alone now.

That made the whole situation worse. Not only did she lose her best friend – the man she loved – but now she was lost and completely alone.

The Nightblood had saved her. She cursed the blood that ran through her veins. She cursed Becca for inventing the damned thing. She cursed her mother for replicating it. She cursed her past self for stabbing the needle into her vein.

What she thought was a blessing was now a curse.

What could have saved hundreds of people had saved only her.

Who would've thought living to be a curse? Who would've thought Life to be the enemy?

Clarke's throat gave out. It had become too raw to continue screaming. Clarke begun sobbing, not able to catch her breath. The air flowed in and out of her lungs in big gasps, her muscles tightly clenching her airways.

" _No._ " She kept repeating the same words over and over. She refused to believe this was reality. _She could not believe it._

Her heart broke, holding another one of her love's dead bodies. Was she cursed? Did the gods not want her to find love? Did the world want her to suffer?

Every person she had loved had died. She had killed Finn – stabbed him through the heart. She had indirectly killed Lexa, the shot was meant for her. And now Bellamy.

He was dead because of her.

He was dead because she didn't fight him hard enough. She could have tried harder. She could have convinced him to stay back with the group.

Damn her.

 _Damn it._

While they were preparing to leave, something was _screaming_ at her to leave him behind at the lab. Her head was telling her this – that it was a one-person job and she would do it alone. Yet, her heart could not bare to leave him behind. She hated to deny him – she hated to not give her heart what it wanted. So, she didn't listen to her head. She listened to her heart.

 _Damn it._

She should've listened to her own advice that she had given Bellamy moments before his death.

 _Use your head and your heart._

Her weakness had killed him.

Clarke let out one last scream filled with agony.

She wanted to wrap her arms around his body one last time. _She wanted his arms to wrap around her in response._

She wanted to grip his hand tightly and never let go. _She wanted him to grip back, rubbing his thumb over her skin._

She wanted to see his brown eyes, without the layers of glass between them. _She wanted life to be in them, the corners crinkled with a smile._

She wanted to feel his skin and have the scent of his hair waft over her. _She wanted him to nuzzle his nose against the top of her head, taking in deep breaths of her scent – just like he had done earlier that day._

She wanted Bellamy. _She wanted him to be alive._

"Bellamy!" Clarke sobbed. She rocked his body in her arms over and over. His face was pressed tight against her stomach, her hands woven in his hair.

 _Not Bellamy._

Everything had lost meaning as she held onto his dead body. Her life had lost purpose and direction seeing his corpse.

She gently creased his face, just as he had done earlier that day. She brushed his hair off of his face, removing the sweat that lined his forehead.

"God, Bellamy!" Her voice sounded haunted, even to her. "I love you! _I love you!"_ She sobbed harder, bending over his body. It was too late. She didn't respond when he was alive. She didn't respond when he admitted his love to her.

 _It was too damn late._

Clarke let out another mangled sob.

She was always too late. Why didn't she kiss him all of those months ago, after Mount Weather? She had been so close, but settled for a kiss on his cheek. Why didn't she admit her love when she was telling him about the head and the heart? Why didn't she grasp his hand tighter when she needed it? Why didn't she laugh at his jokes more, even if they were lame?

They had months together, both clearly in love, dancing around each other.

Now, it was too late.

How was the head supposed to live without the heart? Both systems of the body kept them alive. Without one, death was inevitable.

Why didn't she die alongside him? She didn't want to live without him.

She didn't want to live on Earth, alone, for five years. Hell, even after her friends returned, she wouldn't want to live in a world without him.

 _Were her friends still alive?_

That idea made her sob more. How did she know that her friends had succeeded in their trip to the Ark? Raven was adamant in letting them know the hundreds of different ways their expedition could go wrong. Did they make it?

Clarke could imagine them clearly, dying in a fiery explosion. Or suffocating in their tiny rocket.

What about her other friends and her mother in the bunker? What happened to the people in them? Did the bunker seal work?

Clarke could imagine them dead, their fate similar to Bellamy's.

He was her best friend. He was singly the most important person in her life – not even her mother or friends could top that position.

"Come back!" Her voice broke. She was desperate to see his eyes open one more time. "Come back!" She felt hysteria creeping up on her.

What was there to live for?

She lost so many.

 _She lost too much._

Jake. Wells. Finn. Lincoln. Lexa. Jasper.

There were too many that were dead.

She was alone.

Before, she was fine sacrificing herself. She would happily give up her life so her friends could live. She had wanted to spend the next five years with Bellamy, but would've been happy to die alongside him.

Now, he was gone. And she was not.

Clarke sobbed harder.

She was alone.

 _She was alone._

Not only that, but she had lost her everything. _Her heart. Her soul._ Her best friend. The love of her life.

Gone.

"I love you, Bellamy," Clarke whispered. She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his cold forehead. She shuddered. She was so used to his body radiating warmth. She was so used to his arms being _home._ It hit her that she would never feel that way again.

She would never feel his arms wrap around her, pulling her body close to his chest.

She would never hear the sound of his laugh again.

She would miss the way his eyes crinkled every time he smiled.

She would never feel the brush of his hand against her shoulder, showing her that he was there for her without using words.

She would miss how he would teach her things – whether that be about Greek mythology or how to shoot a gun.

Clarke realized she would never hear his voice again. She would never be able to count the freckles on his face. She would never be able to look into his eyes and clearly read his emotions and marvel at the intricacy. She would never be scooped in his arms again, nor pulled against his chest.

He was gone.

She knew that her dreams would never become reality and it _hurt._ She would never be able to tangle her hands in his hair. She would never be able to trace patterns on his body, connecting his freckled skin like a dot-to-dot picture. She would never feel his lips on hers, nor taste him on her tongue.

She would never have him.

 _She should have tried harder._ She should have known she would survive Praimfaya because of her Nightblood. She should have realized the signs of early radiation sickness. She should have connected the dots between their blood and their reaction to the radiation.

She should have known.

She should have saved him.

 _She should have saved him._

Clarke clutched his body in her hands, refusing to let go. She struggled for breath, allowing her sobs and anguish to overpower her body.

She fell to her sorrow. She allowed it to fill herself, willing with everything in her to bring him back.

Fuck.

 _Fuck._

No matter who she prayed to or what she wished on, he was never coming back.

 _He was never coming back._

Clarke let out another heartbreaking scream, collapsing over his body from the grief and exhaustion.

 _He was never coming back._

* * *

 **And. Yeah.**

 **Sorry about this chapter. It was hard for me to write for multiple different reasons. Even though I didn't go through it as much as I usually do, I hope it turned out okay. I _really_ hope I got my emotions through this and made a few of you cry. **

**Anybody really surprised about Bellamy's fate? This was my originally written ending, actually. In fact, this chapter idea is what I based this whole story on. I wanted to write a purely angst story with Bellamy dying. I was debating on changing it, but I couldn't. I wanted to stick true to my original idea. I hope you guys aren't too disappointed, because many of you guys requested for him to live. I'll send you a virtual hug instead.**

 **Now, onto a few notes on the story...**

 **1)** A reviewer pointed out to me that in chapter 2, I mentioned "red blood." A large cookie to you! Also, if you noticed this, but didn't include it in your review, you get a cookie. And, if you noticed it, but just chalked it up to a typo or a mistake, you also get a cookie! (I feel like Oprah right now haha). I slipped this in this chapter as a little clue as to his fate. Great job to all of you guys that noticed, you've really impressed me with your observation skills!

 **2)** This is not my last chapter! I know I originally said 4 chapters, but I want to wrap this story up differently. I am in the middle of writing the last chapter, so please don't expect this to be posted soon. I just wanted to let you guys know that this isn't the end!

 **3)** I know I disappointed a few of you guys that wanted Bellamy to live. Honestly, I was having such a big debate as to what I should do - rewrite him as alive, or post what I already had written. If I have enough interest, I was thinking of doing an alternate ending? I'm not entirely sure how this would look (if it would be another chapter to this fic, or if it would be a separately posted one-shot). Heck, I don't even know if I would end up doing one, since I have no idea how this alternate ending would look (except, obviously, Bellamy would be alive lol). Would anybody be interested in this? Let me know in a review or a PM.

 **Speaking of Bellamy living, I do have a few fics of mine that DO have him live. If you're in need of a happier fic, go check out "The Demons Within"! I also have several other stories - "Time," "Tortured Souls," and "Gray". They're all one-shots and can be found by clicking on my proflie.**

 **Also, a huge thank you for all of the reviews, favourites, follows, and community adds for this story! This fandom is truly a great place to write fanfiction. Much love to each and every one of you.**

 **Drop me a review to tell me what you thought! I always respond to signed reviews and equally love anonymous reviews. Any feedback is wonderful, as I am always looking for ways to improve.**

 **Sorry for the long A/N. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, even if it was painful to read.**

 **See you soon!**

 **Paw**

 _PS - follow me on Twitter (Pawprinter1)._


	5. Chapter 5: Eyes

**Hi everyone!**

 _ **Welcome TO THE LAST CHAPTER!**_

 **This is bitter sweet for me. I absolutely loved writing this and getting all of the amazing feedback from all of you, so I'm sad to see it go. But, I am very happy to have finished a multi-chapter fic in a short amount of time - usually they take up months (or years) of my time. Anyways, this is the last chapter. Yay!**

 **Note:** First of all, before we get to the chapter, I just want to thank you guys for sticking with this fic. I know I lost a few of you guys last chapter or disappointed a few of you. I understand that you may not have come here for a major character death and I am sorry if you weren't expecting that. When I write a story, there is one specific plot detail that catches my attention and I build a story around that. For "Ashes", the specific plot detail that lead to this whole fic was actually Bellamy's death. I know quite a few of you wanted him to live (myself included). I just wanted to give you guys an extra bit of love this chapter because 1) I'm sappy that this is the end, and 2) you guys have stuck with me until here! Also, a special shout out to some of my readers that let me rant to them about my conflicting ideas. You guys rock.

 **Warning:** This chapter is lighter than the last one. It still has a dark feel to it, but it is nothing like the last one. This is more of a hurt/comfort chapter, not angst. As always, I'll leave this warning here because of the stronger language used.

 **Once again, thanks for sticking with me! I hope you enjoy this _final_ chapter!**

* * *

 **Ashes**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Eyes**

* * *

 _Five days after Praimfaya…_

Clarke stood in her hazmat suit, feeling completely numb. She could feel the turmoil of emotions buzzing around inside of her, but she mostly felt empty. She felt as if a hole had been punched in her stomach and it had been growing bigger and bigger.

Her grey eyes danced as the flames flickered in front of her and the crackle of the fire burning the wood filled her ears. Other than the pops from the embers in front of her, it was silent. Not a single sound was made on the new Earth. There were no birds to chirp, there were no streams to run, there were no trees to have wind rustle through. There was nothing.

The world was different.

 _She was different._

It had been only a handful of nights after Praimfaya, yet it felt like years.

The trees still smouldered around her from the wave of radiation that hit them. The sky was dark from the ash hanging in the sky. The plants that had survived the fires were suffocating and dying from the lack of sunlight. The air felt like acid in her nose – it was still thick with the smoke, dust, and ash.

 _It was like hell._

From what Clarke could tell, she was the only survivor.

Her eyes flickered to the body that lay among the flames and tears sprung to her eyes.

 _The only survivor._

She took a deep breath to steady herself, blinking furiously to get the tears out of her eyes. Clarke felt like she owed it to him to give him a proper funeral. One where she didn't spend half of the time crying, instead of paying her respects and sending him onto the next journey without a proper goodbye. She knew that if she started to cry, she wouldn't be able to stop.

So, she held her tears back.

The past few days had been a mix of sobs, nausea, pain, and rediscovery of Earth. The few hours after she discovered _his_ body had ripped her apart. She didn't put his body down. She just held it close to her, praying that life would somehow flow back into him.

It never did.

She was in denial, no doubt about that. Even though she knew it was a waste of energy, she felt like she would have been giving up on him if she didn't try something. So, she worked for what felt like hours on reviving him.

She pounded on his heart, blew into his mouth. She screamed and sobbed when his pulse didn't change, no matter how much CPR she gave him. She considered shocking him, like what had been done to Lincoln and Raven, but she couldn't do it. Her medical training to her it was too late at that point.

Nothing could bring him back.

Even after several days, it didn't feel real. It didn't feel like she was the last person on Earth. It didn't feel like she had just lost her best friend and the man she loved. It didn't feel like she might never see her friends or her family again. It didn't feel like she let anybody down.

But she did.

She failed everyone. _She failed him._

Clarke closed her eyes tightly, refusing the tears. She took a few deep breaths before reopening them.

It took her four days to be able to think clearly. On the fourth day, she decided that _he_ would want her to stop her wallowing and to begin exploring the post-apocalyptic Earth. He would want her to start finding a way to take care of herself. He would want her to be looking for survivors. That day, she began her hunt. She used the radios, she used signals, and she had begun to look around on foot.

The world was empty.

 _She was empty._

Fuck, how was she going to survive? So far, she had stumbled upon several bottles of water and canned food in Becca's lab, but that wouldn't last her much longer. How was she going to hunt and gather if there wasn't anything left on Earth for her to use?

How was she going to live with the pain? How was she going to live with the guilt?

The feeling wasn't new, but it wasn't a welcome one. The denial. The pain. The regret. The guilt. The hate.

She may have lost many before, but she always had someone to lean on in those times. When she had lost her dad, her mother had given her moments of comfort before she was thrown in the cell. When she lost Wells, she had found comfort in the other delinquents. When she had lost Finn, her mother and Bellamy were there for her. And Lexa? When she lost her, her friends were there to support her.

Bellamy was there.

He was always there.

 _Not anymore._

Who was going to support her now that he was gone?

God, she was a total mess. Just thinking about his name brought sharp jolts of pain to her heart. Just thinking about his face brought tears to her eyes. Just thinking about the way his eyes lit up when he spoke about something he was passionate about sent waves of hurt through her body.

It was all so fresh. It was all so real.

Yet, she didn't want it to be.

Clarke focused herself again. He deserved her full attention.

She wasn't too sure what type of goodbye he would've liked. They never discussed that sort of thing – who would have? Nobody could've predicted the way this had turned out. Nobody could have predicted that he would be dead and she wouldn't.

She decided to give him the funeral she hoped he would've given her if their roles were reversed. They had grown up on the Ark, so she felt that it was fitting to use some of their rituals for his funeral. Of course, she could not send him out of an air-lock and return him back to Earth, but she used that basic premise. His ashes would be able to be returned to the ground, becoming a part of the new Earth. She felt that it was fitting, as a similar practice was done with the Grounders. It was a perfect balance of both chapters of their lives.

"In peace, may you leave the shore." Her voice was raspy and hoarse from lack of use from the past few days. Her throat was still healing from the damage done during Praimfaya. In fact, her whole body was still healing. Just as she had witnessed with Luna, all signs of radiation poisoning were nearly erased. Angry red marks across her skin were the only signs that damage had been done. "In love, may you find the next." Her voice was stronger now. She could still hear the waver in her voice, but she refused to let the sadness overtake her. "Safe passage on your travels until our final journey to the ground." A wave of tears hit Clarke that she couldn't blink away. She let a few tears escape as she said the final words to the prayer. "May we meet again."

Clarke's heart hurt.

"Bellamy," she began. She took a step closer to the roaring flames.

God, did it ever hurt.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry for what has happened." Her voice broke. Just as she predicted, once the first tear fell, the rest could not be stopped. Her cheeks were quickly covered in the liquid.

 _If only he hadn't come with her._

"You shouldn't have been there," she said, voicing her thoughts.

 _If only Raven requested him to load her spacesuit into the rocket, not Harper._

"You should've stayed back. We would've been separated for five years, but at least you would still be alive."

 _If only he had gone to help Monty and Murphy carry the oxygenator from the lighthouse._

"Anything would be better than you being dead." That word was like poison in her mouth. _Dead._ Oh god, he was dead.

 _If only Emori needed help loading the rocket._

"I regret _so much._ I wish I would've been better to you. I wish I would've been there for you more. I wish that I never wasted my time hating you, or pretending that I was not in love with you." She bit her lip to hold back a sob. "I do. I do love you, Bellamy." She let a few seconds tick by.

 _If only Monty took off his gloves._

"I'm sorry, Bellamy. I'm sorry I didn't try harder. I'm sorry I didn't do more. I'm sorry I never told you that I love you."

 _If only he hadn't come with her._

"Goodbye, Bellamy. We will meet again."

* * *

 _Three months after Praimfaya…_

Clarke laid flat on her side, curled up in a ball. Her back was pressed up against a trunk from a fallen tree. A fire crackled in front of her and her rifle lay clutched between her fingers.

She took a deep breath.

 _It still smelled like him._

She shifted on the ground, pulling Bellamy's jacket tighter around her shoulders. It was all she had left of him. Even though it was singed in some places and ripped in others, she would never let this go.

 _She could never let him go._

It was a cold night. Who was she kidding, it always was a cold night. There was still a layer of ash hanging in the sky, preventing the full amount of solar radiation from entering Earth.

The world was gone.

Clarke didn't look away from the embers at the base of the fire. Her breath came out as clouds due to the frigid temperatures and her shoulders shook.

Luckily enough, Clarke had found the one place in the world that was green. It was still healing. After all, the wave of death was only a few months ago.

 _She was still healing._

Clarke pulled on the collar of Bellamy's jacket again, burying her nose in the material. God, she missed him so much.

She was alone. She had been for months. It was harder than it sounded. Everyday was a constant battle for survival – she had to battle the elements of a radiation soaked planet, she had to find resources to keep her alive and nourished, and she had to combat loneliness.

Loneliness was a terrible enemy. It was one she had experience with before, when she was in isolation for her crimes on the Ark. At least when she was locked up, she had human contact when the guards came to deliver her food. It was minor contact, but just seeing a human face was enough to keep her centred.

Now, she didn't even have that.

She hadn't seen another human in months. She hadn't heard the voice of someone since Praimfaya. She hadn't felt the warmth of a human touch in so long.

All previous human contact felt like ghosts in her life. If she closed her eyes, she could remember a face. If she tried hard enough, she could hear a voice calling her name. If she allowed her mind to wonder, she could feel warm arms snake around her body and her back falling against someone's chest.

Well, it wasn't just anyone.

It was _him_.

 _Bellamy._

It was _his_ face that she would see when she closed her eyes – his lips pulled into a wide smile and his eyes dancing with joy. It was _his_ voice she could hear calling her name – his laugh echoed around her empty ears. It was _his_ arms she felt pull her into a hug – they were familiar – they were home.

She didn't know when it started, but she felt tears running down her face.

 _God, she missed him so much. She missed people so much._

It was driving her mad, being alone. It killed her, thinking of how they could've been together if the fates hadn't set out to separate them.

She would never be able to get her mind off of his final moments. Bellamy running beside her through the woods. Climbing the tower with him, knowing they were experiencing their final moments on Earth. Stumbling through the forest beside him, each pulling the other along. Bellamy tripping of the damn tree root, ripping his protective suit. The bone chilling moan of pain he let out before falling to the snow covered ground as Praimfaya approached. His cries as she helped him to his feet and raced into the lab. The screams of pain as the wave hit. His face, covered in blisters and burns. His body falling to the ground. All of the blood, soaking into her knees as she crouched beside his body. The stillness of his chest. The emptiness of his eyes.

Clarke shivered.

 _If only he hadn't come with her._

That was the thought that had played over and over in her mind for the past few months. If only… If he didn't go with her, he would still be alive.

 _If only the communications system wouldn't have failed._

They would still be together, living in peace on the Ark with their friends.

 _Damn it._ She wished that was her reality.

Instead, she was living in hell. Her reality was made up of loneliness and death.

If only, if only.

 _If only she could turn back time._

"Hello?" a small voice called, breaking Clarke out from her thoughts. Clarke's head shot up from where it had slumped against the ground.

 _What the fuck was that?_

Was she finally at the breaking point? Was she so alone that she would now start to imagine voices of people that weren't really there?

"Hello!?" Clarke swore she could hear that voice again. It was the voice of a young girl.

Clarke was chilled. Was she hallucinating this?

A little girl stepped out from the shadows, her lips between her teeth and her hands balled up in tiny fists at her side.

Clarke realized with a jolt that she was not dreaming. This was not a hallucination.

 _This was real._

Where did this girl come from? Who was she? How did she survive? A million questions ran through Clarke's head.

She was conflicted. Part of her felt ecstatic that she was not alone anymore. Another part of her felt so _off_ and _chilled_ that a real person was standing right in front of her.

" _Heya_ ," the young girl said in Trigedasleng once she caught sight of Clarke.

"Hi," Clarke responded, completely breath taken. She rubbed the tears from her face.

"I wasn't able find my _nomon,_ " the girl continued. "I want my _nomon._ " Her chin trembled as she fought back tears.

"What's your name?" Clarke manage to say, her voice cracking several times from the emotions that had hit her earlier that night. The shy girl let out a small smile. She took a few steps away from the shadows, allowing the sunlight to hit her.

Clarke felt the air leave her chest.

It felt like the whole world had stopped when she caught sight of her face. It was almost like _nothing_ else mattered in the whole world – not her pain, not finding food, not trying to contact the Ark.

 _Nothing else mattered._

It was just herself and the young girl.

It was just herself and _those eyes._

 _She had his eyes._

Clarke knew it was impossible. She did not believe in reincarnation without the Flame, but, somehow, this little girl had the _exact_ same eyes as him.

Clarke couldn't help it when her jaw dropped open and her lips parted the slightest bit. This young girl in front of her held those eyes that she loved beyond measure.

Those rich eyes that had seen so much. The eyes that conveyed his emotions, an exact window to the soul. The eyes that held so much knowledge and understanding. The eyes that crinkled when he smiled.

 _His eyes._

It was almost like she was looking at him.

 _It was almost like she was looking at Bellamy._

Clarke instantly felt drawn to this small child. She felt as if the world was giving her a sign. Even if Bellamy was gone, she could still have part of him. She could still save a life, even though she failed to save his.

She was convinced – fate had drawn her to this child.

She was her responsibility now.

"Madi. My name is Madi. What's yours?" Clarke smiled, even though just moments ago it felt like she would never be able to again. Somehow, seeing his eyes blink back at her provided the exact comfort that she needed.

Typical. Bellamy always knew what she needed to feel better, even before she knew it herself.

"Clarke." Her thoughts drifted to Bellamy again. _He would have loved her._

"I'm scared, Clarke," she whimpered. Clarke felt herself push her own emotions into a box, locking them up. She was responsible for this child. Or, at least it felt like it.

It was just the two of them left in the world now.

She got up from the ground, dusting off the dirt from her side. She took a small step towards the trembling child.

"Don't worry, Madi. Everything is alright." Clarke winced at the large lie she just told. It was definitely _not_ alright. It hadn't been alright in months, and it wouldn't be alright for a few more years. "I'll help you find your _nomon._ " Clarke knew that Madi's mother was dead. If she hadn't found her in three months, there was a very small amount of hope. In fact, Clarke was surprised that this young girl was still out searching for her family.

This was a sign. She had his eyes and had crossed her path during a time of wavering – a new purpose in life. Someone needed her help and she was no longer alone.

Clarke closed the distance between herself and the child, not able to look away from her brown eyes. She reached her and put her hand on her small shoulder.

"Let's get looking, shall we?"

* * *

 _One year after Praimfaya…_

"Good, Madi!" Clarke praised. The young girl turned away from their target and sent a beaming smile in Clarke's direction. Madi had begged Clarke for months to teach her how to shoot a gun. She was still young – too young, in Clarke's opinion – but she felt it was better that she taught her how to handle the gun properly before an accident happened. Plus, she could always use help when hunting.

Madi was just as strong willed as she was. Clarke could see a lot of similarities between herself and her adoptive child. Madi was a hard worker; Clarke liked to think she was as well. Madi had a passion for learning new things and doing her best all of the time – a trait Clarke hoped to have a shadow of within herself. Overall, the seven-year-old was dedicated, hard working, strong, and always trying to please.

As Madi took a few more shots at the tree, Clarke couldn't help but marvel at the flutter of her heart inside of her chest. Madi was her whole world now – she held a special piece of her heart, just beside the piece reserved for Bellamy.

When Madi and Clarke first found each other, they spent the next several weeks searching for her family. When they covered miles and miles of destroyed land, Madi finally realized that she was the last of her bloodline. She finally came to terms with the death of her family.

During that time, Clarke had come to terms with the deaths of all of her family, friends, and loved ones. She came to terms with Bellamy's death. He had sacrificed his life for a better world – a world where his friends would survive and go on to build a bright future.

It was still painful. Most nights, she woke up screaming because she could still hear his screams or still see his face.

Sometimes, she couldn't look at Madi. Her eyes were too much of a reminder of his – they brought back such painful memories. It brought back the fresh pain and all of the loss that she had felt and continued to feel.

They reminded her of what could've been.

Some nights, Clarke laid awake under the smoky sky, with images filling her brain. She tried her best not to linger on the 'what ifs' – it was always so painful when she snapped back to reality and realized that it was only a dream and could only ever be a dream. But, some days, that's all she had.

Countless times, she imagined their life on the Ark with their friends. The communications system never blew up and they never had to go realign the satellite. Or, the satellite aligned itself automatically when they plugged the computer in and made it back to the rocket in time for launch. Regardless of how it happened, they made it to Ark.

It was there that they grew closer together. She imagined that they would spend the first few weeks re-learning the spaceship that they had been raised on. She would've shown him her old house and her old room. He would've laughed at her stuffed animal that her mother had bought her when she was younger. Then, he would fall silent when they both realized that it was _his_ mother had sewn it for her. When they visited Bellamy's house, he would pull out an almost-twin to the bear that sat in Clarke's room – they were more identical in ways than they were different. Bellamy would show her where Octavia used to hide and Clarke would nearly get sick from being in such suffocating conditions. On his morning run, he would've stumbled across her old cell and her paintings on the walls. When he found her at breakfast that morning, he would've pressed his mouth to hers with such passion because _damn it, Clarke, you didn't deserve all of that pain._ They would've laid together at night, looking out into the night sky. Even though the constellations that they could see from the Ark were entirely different than the ones the Ancient Greeks had seen from Earth, he would've told her stories of heroes and great battles. Clarke liked to imagine that he would've told her he loved her while they wondered the halls of their home – not right before his death. She liked to imagine that she responded with those exact words – not stare at him like he had lost his mind.

Other times, Clarke would imagine their life on Earth if his suit never tore or if she hadn't passed out. She would've been able to save him. She liked to think that she would've been able to replicate Nightblood, inject it into Bellamy and they would live happily together. Of course, there were several _major_ problems with that, but she liked to torture herself as much as possible with false hope of what could've been.

She imagined that they would be scared at first. They wouldn't want to leave the lab. They were safe there, at least, and they had food and water. But, of course, Clarke would insist that they had to explore the land and Bellamy would be eager to search for survivors. Once he was made a Nightblood, they would venture out into the new world, learning it together. Eventually, they would stumble across a little girl with his eyes – Madi. Clarke could imagine that they would've become a family, all three of them. Bellamy could teach Madi how to shoot a gun, not Clarke. Bellamy would be able to give her piggyback rides and teach her the Ancient Greek mythology. Clarke would try her best to teach Madi about the different plants that had survived the fire, but Madi would _of course_ know more and end up teaching the two adults. Clarke could imagine snuggling into Bellamy every night, whispering her love over and over – never really forgiving herself for not repeating it right back the first time. Of course, Bellamy would have a deep laugh and tell her to stop being ridiculous because _at least they're together now._

It was almost painful at times, how clearly she could imagine their future. It physically hurt her heart to think of the endless possibilities. She could drive herself insane by thinking of little details that could've been changed that would've saved Bellamy's life.

Clarke was broken away from her train of thought when Madi hit dead centre of the target pasted on the tree. She let out a little whoop and pumped her fist in celebration. Clarke felt a strong sense of pride. A wide smile spread across her face.

She was a natural.

"Great job, Madi!" Clarke called. The smile across the little girl's face left Clarke with a feeling of peace. "You're really getting the hang of it."

"Come show me again, Clarke!" Madi called, her voice betraying how excited the young Nightblood was. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet and excitedly waved Clarke towards her. Clarke complied and walked closer to her. "I want to be as good as you!" Clarke laughed.

"My _natblida,_ you're already better than me!" she poked her in the arm. Madi swatted it away.

"Then I want to be as good as the great hero Bellamy!" Clarke's heart stopped and her breath got caught in her throat at hearing his name. No time would ever heal that wound – not any time that she had experienced, anyways. Anytime she spoke of her best friend, or if Madi mentioned him, her body would be sent through a shockwave of pain.

 _The great hero Bellamy._

Clarke felt like that was the best way to honour him. He had love for Greek mythology and extensive knowledge on those great heroes. He also had many traits of Greek heroes – he defeated many unbeatable monsters, he went on several quests to save his people, and he came to a unique and sudden end. All of those qualities were ones that made up those Greek heroes. That, paired with his sacrifice, bravery, and heroism… well, he was Madi's favourite hero.

She loved to hear stories of the great Bellamy. It helped Clarke come to terms with his death and honour him, plus it brought such joy to Madi. Telling stories of Bellamy had become one of Clarke's favourite moments. Once the sun set and the fire was lit, Madi would curl up close to Clarke and listen to the adventures of the hero Bellamy. Madi even took it upon herself to name a cluster of stars after him, creating her own constellation.

It was poetic, in a sense. She knew he was up there, among the stars. She guessed Madi did as well, one way or another.

While his constellation started off as Madi's idea, Clarke had grown fond of it. His constellation included the North Star and, true to her own Bellamy, he was always there to lead them home. Whenever she needed him, she could just look to the sky and be comforted.

"Am I as good as him, Clarke?" Madi questioned. Clarke smiled and touched her brown hair lightly. She dropped to her knees beside Madi and pulled her into a hug. The Grounder didn't hesitate to return it.

"You, my little _natblida,_ would make Bellamy proud," Clarke whispered. Madi giggled and pulled away. Her grey eyes met Madi's brown and a jolt of love went through her – love for both the young girl in front of her and the man that also bore those eyes.

She still had regrets. Clarke knew she couldn't change the past, no matter how hard she tried. She couldn't bring him back. She had grown to accept this, even though he would never truly leave her heart.

Her biggest regret was not telling him her feelings. When he said 'I love you,' why didn't she respond? She had come to accept his death, but she could never forgive herself for not repeating those three words back.

As Madi stared up at Clarke with Bellamy's eyes, she felt as if she was staring into both of their souls at once. Clarke tucked a stray brown hair behind her ear, but their eyes never left each others.

"I love you," Clarke whispered.

It was almost as if she was not just saying those words to Madi alone, but to Bellamy too. A sense of peace washed over her.

"I know, Clarke. I love you, too." The young girl threw herself back into Clarke's arms.

Maybe, just maybe, he knew too.

Clarke glanced up at the North Star and smiled. For the first time in over a year, she felt truly at peace. For the first time since his death, she felt like she had made things right.

 _'_ _I love you, Bellamy,'_ she thought up at the sky. She could almost hear his laugh. She could almost feel his lips on her ear, brushing against it. She could almost see his lips quirk into a smile.

 _'_ _I know, Clarke. I love you, too.'_

* * *

 _The End._

* * *

 **Alright, there you have it! One BIG thank you to all of you guys that have stayed until the end for this fic. Many hugs for you.**

 **Note:** For this chapter to work, I just assigned Madi's eye colour to be brown. If you've kept up with news from The 100, you might know that the actress set to portray Madi has blue or grey eyes. I'm sorry for this inconsistency! As a solution, I propose that we just pretend Madi has brown eyes? Or, even better, young Madi has brown eyes and the high levels of radiation changed them grey/blue! Yes, yes, I know, radiation doesn't work that way but *shrug*. Thanks for accepting this, guys!

 **Note 2:** So, recently (as in, the past two days), I've been having the biggest internal debate on what I should do about this fic. Like I mentioned above, the main purpose of this fic was to explore character death. But, I equally loved my planned ending that resulted in Bellamy living. Even after posting, I was conflicted. Anyways, like I mentioned last chapter, **I am considering doing an alternate ending**. In your review (or a PM, I don't mind), let me know if you would be interested in reading this! If so, would you prefer I post it as a one-shot or would you prefer it as a chapter?

 **Yay self-promotion time!** If you enjoyed "Ashes", I do have several other Bellarke fics that you can find by clicking on my profile! They are all one-shots and are called "The Demons Within", "Time," "Tortured Souls," and "Gray". I also have **brand new** story called "You're A Good Man, Bellamy Blake" - if you are looking for something lighter to read after reading this heartbreaker, I suggest you check that out!

 **As always, thank you! You guys have been so supportive and encouraging! I have received wonderful feedback throughout this story and have met some amazing people through this fandom. Thank you _so much_ for all of the reviews, favourites, and follows.**

 **Leave me a review to let me know your opinions on this chapter and on the whole story in general! I accept signed and anonymous reviews, PLUS I respond to each review from a member.**

 **Much love to you all!**

 **May we meet again,**

 **Paw**


	6. Ashes: Alternate Ending

**Hi! I finally sat down and wrote out the alternate ending that a lot of people requested for "Ashes". It was a lot of fun and I ended up writing a lot more than I planned to!**

 **If you don't really remember what happened, it's all good - I have a recap!**

"Ashes" recap: _Clarke and Bellamy go to realign the radio tower. Along the way, they're convinced they will die at each other's sides. Bellamy doesn't want to die without telling Clarke that he is in love with her, but Clarke is too stunned to respond. They manage to manually realign the tower and save their friends, but not before being left behind on a radiation soaked Earth. They race back to Becca's lab and pass out from their injuries. In the original version of "Ashes", Bellamy ends up dying due to not having Nightblood, leaving Clarke alone._

 **Now, with that being said, this version is a little different. This is just an alternate ending, therefore the plot is the exact same up until "Chapter 4: Ashes". In other words, chapters 1-3 still apply! The only thing that changes is the outcome.** **If you're still confused, here is the applicable recap.** _Clarke and Bellamy realign the radio tower, are left behind, and make it back to Becca's lab. Clarke has just woken up and has remembered the events of earlier in the day._

 **Please note, there are some chunks of text taken straight from the original story "Ashes." For example, the whole opening is taken from chapter 3 of "Ashes". There are some paragraphs taken directly from that fic. I did this so I could tie this story to the original, allowing it to act like a true alternate ending. It is literally the exact same story, except for the very end. I hope that makes sense!**

 **Warning: There is still a bunch of angst in this fic. It is angst with a happy ending though, so don't lose hope! Also,** **there are descriptions of injuries/sickness/gore (whatever you want to call it). It isn't very graphic, but I just want to warn everyone in case that isn't your thing.**

 **I hope you enjoy this alternate ending!**

* * *

 **Recap**

 **"Ashes" Chapter 3: Race Against Time**

"Come on!" Clarke screamed, stumbling back to her feet. She reached down and pulled on Bellamy's hand. How was he so much worse than her? They were exposed to the same amount of radiation for very comparable amounts of time. "Bellamy! _Please!_ " He looked up at her, pain in his eyes.

"I can't." His voice trembled.

Clarke screamed. In a rush of adrenaline, she reached to the ground and hooked her hands under his arms. With a grunt, she helped him back up to his feet. "Let's go!" She began running in the direction of the lab, Bellamy stumbling right beside her.

She burst through the door, slamming it behind both of them. She released Bellamy, allowing his body to fall to the floor with a loud thud. He lay flat against the cool tile, not having the strength to hold his body up. She quickly followed him, falling to her hands and knees.

She coughed several times before blood flew out of her mouth, covering the glass of her suit.

Clarke no longer had the strength to hold herself up. Her arms gave out from underneath her and she landed on the floor hard. She could no longer see out of her visor due to the blood, but she could feel Bellamy's body heat not too far away.

The lights flickered and went out once Praimfaya hit. Clarke could hear glass windows breaking as the force of the wave smashed into the lab. Smoke, dust and ash flew into the building from the cracks in the doors and the busted windows.

The last thing she remembered was Bellamy crying out in pain.

"Bellamy!" she cried out. "Bell-" Clarke choked on her words. She opened her mouth to call out to him one last time, but she couldn't get the words out. She coughed again, letting more black blood flow out from in-between her lips.

Then, darkness.

* * *

 **Ashes: Alternate Ending**

* * *

Finally, Clarke understood. She understood how she survived Praimfaya.

 _Nightblood._

The black substance she had shot into her veins had done its job – it had protected her, just like it had all those months ago back in Polis with the Flame. _But it was hers._ It wasn't just borrowed blood from a corpse anymore – it actually pumped through her veins. The feat felt impossible, but somehow it happened.

Her mother did it. No. _They_ had done it – the whole team. It wasn't just her mother; it was Raven, Abby, Jackson, and Luna. They all pushed themselves beyond what they should've, grasping at the hope of a solution. The fire of hope had flickered countless times, but their spirit and strength is what propelled them to finding the solution.

They did it.

They found the one thing that could have saved the human race.

 _Could have._

The words echoed painfully around Clarke's mind.

It was too late. The wave already hit – thousands of people were dead. Yes, they had found a solution – that should've been a success. Instead, it was one of the biggest failures of Clarke's life.

She was the _only one_ to have the protection. She was the only one with the metabolism to cure herself of radiation poisoning.

The fact that there was a solution to the wave of death should have brought her peace of mind. It should have lifted the weight of the world off of her shoulders. It should have made her see the hope – made her feel free – made her feel like she had done her job correctly for once in her damn life.

But that wasn't the case.

Instead, it felt like she was still holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, along with the pain and suffering of thousands of souls. The weight of their lives held onto her, leeching onto her own soul. _The weight of needing to find a solution to save the human race was no longer on her shoulders – the weight of all of those deaths was there instead._

She failed them.

 _She failed them._

Why was she surprised? It seemed like she could never fully get the job done. Try to defeat the Grounders and protect her people? Okay, as long as she can attract the attention of the Mountain Men and get captured in the process. Break her people out of Mount Weather? Sure, but she'll have to kill everyone that helped her inside of that bunker. Shut down Alie and free the human race? She could do it, but not without endangering _everyone_ with Praimfaya – not without killing everyone herself.

With every second that passed, she felt heavier and heavier. The deaths of all of those innocent souls – the lives of good men, women and children – weighed down on her. She felt responsible for their suffering. Clarke felt her heart sink further and further. All of those people – dead. She could _see_ what happened to those that were not as lucky as her.

Their bodies, utterly destroyed by the sheer magnitude of the radiation.

Dead. Their jaws slack, eyes unseeing.

Bloodied. A trail of the crimson substance trickled out of their lips, dribbling down their chins. Where she expected tears to streak, blood covered instead.

Cold. Their life – gone. Their heart stilled – the organ no longer able to push the blood through their body. Where their hands used to sweat and cheeks used to blush, was pale and cold now. They were gone. Their bodies empty. Their bodies cold as icy.

 _No._

No, that wasn't the outcome. That wasn't what was left of those out there. The people without Nightblood would not be empty corpses.

 _No._

Her lip quivered.

 _There wouldn't be anything left._ The radiation would have ripped their bodies apart. The death wave would leave nothing behind – no burning buildings, no smouldering forests, no dead bodies. Those that lost their lives due to her failures would never be seen again. Their ashes would have returned to the ground, becoming part of the fiery planet Earth had become.

She wished that she wasn't the only one left on Earth with Nightblood. She wished that she was able to test the blood and develop the cure for the rest of the population. She wished that nobody had died. She wished she wasn't alone.

 _She wished that she didn't fail._

But she did. And she had to live with that choice. She didn't test the cure. She didn't help develop and implement the Nightblood solution across the population. Everyone was dead. She was alone.

 _No._

Clarke swore so loudly that she could taste blood from her raw throat. The air felt like fire against her throat. Her tongue felt like salt in her wounds. But she didn't care at that moment – _she couldn't care_.

There was something much more important for her mind to latch on to.

 _Bellamy._

Her heart raced and her adrenaline spiked as she thought of him. He was here with her. He had gone with her to realign the satellite. He had fallen beside her when the wave hit – she could remember feeling the heat of his body right before the wave hit. She could remember calling out his name and reaching for him right before she passed out. The memories from the past hours crashed down around her.

/

"Sat-Star-One."

"You _have_ to leave that tower with 10 minutes on the clock, or you'll be left behind."

"Run fast."

/

"You should go back." His voice was firm – it was an order, not a suggestion. Clarke's eye widened and her mouth opened the slightest. She stumbled over her two feet as they raced across the forest. Before she could fall, he caught her arm and straightened her. "This is really only a one-person job. I can do it alone."

"Don't do this, Bellamy. You're stupid if you think that I would leave you now." She refused to leave him to do this job alone. They'd do it together. Just like always.

/

"Dish not aligned." The words shook Clarke to her core. Red lights flashed with the message. Bellamy was frozen to the spot, his muscles tightening. His eyes were wide and it felt as if his heat had dropped to the pit of his stomach. Clarke shook her head, panic setting in as well.

"What did we do wrong!?" she cried. Bellamy took a step away from the panel, his head shaking, and Clarke took his place. "No, no, no, no!"

/

"Clarke, what do we do?" She didn't respond right away to his pleas. Bellamy opened his eyes, searching for her grey ones. Their eyes met. Where Bellamy knew he should find fear, he eerily found composure. "Clarke?"

"You need to go." Her voice held no room for arguments.

"What? No! We're in this together." He took a step towards her, taking her hands in his. "As always. We will do this _together_."

"Bu-"

"No. There's no time. We have to go _now_."

"Go where, huh, Bellamy? Either this thing gets fixed or we die. _We all die._ Don't you understand?"

"Of course I understand!"

"I won't make it, Bell." Clarke's voice cracked and a lone tear escaped her eye.

"Don't be stupid, there has to be-"

" _There_ _is no other way!"_

"Clarke, please." His voice broke. "I – I can't lose you." He took a step towards her. "You can't do this. _Please don't do this._ "

"I'm doing this. _You need to go back_ _."_ She lifted her head up to face him. Their eyes locked. "Please, Bell. I don't want to lose you either."

"Do you know what you're asking me?! You're asking me to live without you! You're asking me _to leave you behind to die!_ How am I supposed to live knowing that I could've saved you!?"

"This is my choice! I bear it so they don't have to."

"This is _my_ choice too, Clarke!" Bellamy argued. " _I bear it so you don't have to alone_. We are in this together."

"No! Bellamy, you can't, I-"

" _I love you!_ "

/

"Raven, if you can hear me, _leave_. Do it now. We aren't going to make it back." A beat passed. "Don't wait for us."

/

She gasped and shuddered as her brain struggled to catch up with what happened. One thing stuck out that made Clarke's head spin. _He loved her. He loved her and she didn't say it back to him._

Oh, god. _Oh, god._

Where was he?

Panic like she had never felt before set into her bones.

This was different than the panic she felt while running away from Praimfaya. While she was running, she was scared for herself and scared for Bellamy. She feared for their survival and was frightened of the unknown.

Now? Now she was entirely focused on him and that made it a thousand times worse. She couldn't give a damn about her wellbeing at the moment – all she cared about was his safety.

"Bellamy!" she cried, her throat raspy. Tears were brought to her eyes from the pain she felt in her throat. Her lips split open from trying to produce the sounds of his name. "Bellamy!"

Clarke's head was spinning, but it wasn't from the loss of blood or the radiation poisoning.

It was from thinking about the possibility of Bellamy being de-

No.

Clarke wouldn't think like that. She knew he was fine. _He had to be._

 _He had to be okay._

They were a team. He wouldn't dare leave her behind. He wouldn't dare die on her. She refused to even consider that possibility. Even though she was on the brink of hysteria, she refused to think of that. She had to stay strong.

From her memories, she knew Bellamy was near. They had collapsed right beside each other as soon as she had shut the door. She remembered feeling the heat radiating from he body as the chaos around her faded into darkness.

"Bellamy!" His name echoed around the empty room she lay in. " _Bellamy!?"_ Panic was slowly starting to creep into her voice. Where was he? What happened to him?

Oh god. Oh god.

She tried to keep calm. She pushed her panic and uncertainty into a corner of her mind. It would do nobody any good to allow her thoughts to get any more blurred than they were already. She was suffering who knows how many injuries – she didn't need to be any more distracted with unnecessary panic.

Bellamy was fine.

 _He had to be._

It seemed as if _she was_ the one to have worse radiation poisoning between the two of them, from what she remembered. And she had woken up! It only made sense that, since he was in better condition, he would've woken up too.

Even though he did not look well when she last seen him, she did not see him coughing up blood like she had been. In fact, she would've predicted the opposite of what was actually happening. After evaluating their conditions, during the race back to the lab, she would've thought _he_ would be the one to wake up first.

Her heart was pounding in her chest so fast that she could hardly feel it. The blood rushing around her head was making her feel faint – or was that just from the fact that she had just survived so much radiation that she should have died in an instant? Her mouth felt dry and her tongue felt think, making it hard to swallow.

"Bell!" Clarke let out a sob of hysteria. She could feel herself starting to crack. That wall that she hid her panic behind was starting to deteriorate. She couldn't just push her panic and hysteria away – they were too strong. Her thoughts were starting to blurr. Her vision swam.

Suddenly, she felt trapped under all of that material of her hazmat suit. She felt as if it had swallowed her whole. _It was too tight._ She felt like she was suffocating. The glass that hung in front of her eyes closed her in, the helmet that pressed tightly against her ears dampened the sound of the outside and made her feel like she was locked in a cage, the material that covered her body made her feel like she was drowning.

Her panic hit a newfound high. Her eyes widened with fear. Her breathing and heart rate became even more rapid. She tried clawing at the material that surrounded her neck, but it wasn't helping.

 _She was trapped._

 _Suffocating._

Clarke bolted upright, ignoring the spinning of her head and the shooting of stars behind her eyelids. She struggled to undo the buckles that kept the helmet in place, but as soon as they were undone, the helmet came flying off.

Just in time, too. As soon as the helmet hit the floor, she was thrown to her hands and knees by an intense wave of nausea. She gagged as her stomach was emptied for what felt like an uncountable time that day. What was even left for her body to heave up? She took gulps of the smoky air into her lungs and tried to refocus her mind.

She wasn't suffocating.

She wasn't drowning.

The suit wasn't too tight.

She was fine. _She was fine._ It was just panic. _The panic was making her feel a certain way._ It was just the panic. _She was fine._

No matter what she told herself, it didn't make her feel any better.

Clarke shuddered and collapsed onto her side. Her lungs begged for clean air and her eyes watered from the smoke. _She felt terrible._ She felt cold and weak. _She felt like she was falling apart_. She was scared and panicked. Her injuries were making her head spin. _How was she going to survive?_

She could feel a chill in her bones like no other. It felt like she had been sitting in an ice bath for far too long. It was like the chill had actually seeped into her. On the complete opposite side of the spectrum, it felt like every inch of her body was covered in burns. Her skin felt loose on her bones – almost like she didn't belong with them. _It felt like her body was separating in two._ Icy cold and burning hot.

 _What was happening?_

She shook violently from the chill that crept up her spine, from the weakness, and from the fear. Clarke wasn't sure how she would be able to do anything when she was feeling so sick. She wasn't sure if she would be able to make it through the night feeling like this.

Her legs felt like they weren't attached to her body anymore – they had been worked so hard that not even the sting from overuse could be felt. Her fingers were clenched so tightly that it hurt to straighten them out. Even muscles she didn't even know could hurt were searing.

 _She was going to die._

She had managed to survive the deadliest thing to ever touch the planet, but she was going to be killed by the aftermath of it.

Clarke let out a sob.

For the first time in a long time, she took the moment to herself to cry. She couldn't muster the energy into a full sob, but she wished she had. She wanted to feel that burning feeling in her lungs from crying too hard. She wanted that sweet release that those sobs brought to her. She wanted to allow herself to be sucked into the pit of despair. She wanted to sob and scream and throw things.

But she didn't. _She couldn't._ If she had any hope of survival, she couldn't allow herself to waste energy on that.

Instead, she laid flat against the floor. The tiles were cold against her face. She let tear after tear run down her face, spreading across her cheeks. As quickly as her body would allow her, she brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around them. As her face got more and more damp, the more and more ashes from the floor began to stick to her. She could taste the salt from her tears and the blood on her lips.

The position she held her body in made he feel safe and warm. It was almost like she was locking in her strength and keeping out the demons this way. It reminded of being held by those that she loved – her father used to cradle her when she was younger and had a bad dream, Wells had held her a few times when she would get so fed up with how unfair society on the Ark was, Abby had held her tightly after Finn had died, and Bellamy had wrapped his arms around her on far too many occasions.

 _Bellamy._

Her heart stung at the thought of him. Before she could help herself, his name fell from her lips.

"Bellamy."

Over and over, she cried out for him.

Bellamy. Bellamy. Bellamy.

 _He never responded._

Even though she only took a minute to let her sorrows consume her, she could have sworn she said his name a hundred times.

She knew she was being selfish. She knew she should have been looking for him. She knew that his body was around the lab somewhere. It was her duty to find him and pay him a proper good bye – it was the least he deserved. He deserved more than what she could give him – and he sure as hell deserved more than having his corpse lay unfound in the lab. _But she needed a moment to herself; to let out all of the pain that was in her._

She knew he was gone.

 _Bellamy did not have Nightblood._

She felt beyond sick from this statement. Clarke never thought that simple words could hurt so much. Her stomach was churning, her muscles had tensed up, and her head spun.

She was the only one left on Earth to have the blood that protected someone against radiation. _That_ was why he was impacted so much while they were running in the woods. _That_ was why she had woken up earlier.

Her heart sank.

 _He wasn't going to wake up at all._

Her heart hurt from this loss. Her chest was filled with so much pain that she didn't think she would ever be able to stop sobbing from it.

She only sobbed harder when she remembered his words. _"I love you."_ And what did she do?

Not respond.

 _Damn it._

She loved him, too.

 _She loved him so much._

But it was too late. He was gone. _He was dead and she was alive_.

She was alive and she never told him the truth. She let him die without speaking those three simple words. She let him die, thinking she didn't love him back. She would have to live with this fact for the rest of her life.

Clarke coughed several times from crying so hard. Her muscles in her stomach and back screamed in protest from the sudden movement.

But the pain in her body would never compare to the pain in her heart.

"I'm sorry! Bell. I'm-"

She stopped in mid-sentence when her eyes caught a something a few feet away from her.

A trail of blood.

The red substance was streaked across the floor, leading from where she sat to across the room. She couldn't see where the trail lead, as it disappeared behind the work table.

It looked like a body was dragged away, leaving behind the red substance.

It took her a moment to process that fact. _There was a trail of blood leading away from her._

Then, it hit her.

Oh god. Where was Bellamy?

Clarke blinked her eyes several times. Was she imagining things? How could someone have been dragged across the floor if she was the only one awake and Bellamy was the only other person on Earth? It was impossible…

Either she was imagining things or someone else was in here with her.

Clarke wasn't sure which situation was worse.

"Bellamy?" she called tentatively – hopefully. She held her breath and waited for a response.

None came.

As she stared at the fresh blood streaked across the floor, her stomach began to twist and her palms began to sweat.

She knew it wasn't from her friends – the blood was too fresh to have come from them. They had left long before they had returned to the lab.

She knew whoever had bled on the floor had passed through the lab after Praimfaya because the bodily fluid had dripped directly onto pieces of ash and soot. _The ash fell before the blood._

She inched her way over to the smear to examine it closer. Through the centre, the ash had been completely cleared, leaving only a trail of blood behind. Along the edges, blood and ash had mixed together to form a dark black liquid – it reminded her of mud.

What instantly struck her was the handprint off to the side of the blood trail. It was as clear as anything she had ever seen before in her life.

A single handprint in the ash.

Clarke inched her way forward and pressed her hand against the print. It was larger than hers. If they were to hold hands, whomever the hand print belonged to would almost completely engulf hers.

Her eyes flicked along the trail, looking for more prints. A few feet away, there was the print of the toes of a boot. Not much further past that was the print of four fingers.

Her heart jumped into her throat as she realized what happened. _Whoever's blood this was had dragged themselves away from her._

She couldn't form any words or make another sound – she was in too much shock.

That person was alive.

That person?

That person was her Bellamy.

 _Oh god._

 _Bellamy was alive._

Ignoring how the world swam around her, she stumbled to her feet. Somehow – and she would never know how – her legs were steady beneath her and kept her from falling back to the ground. She didn't get sick from the overwhelming nausea, nor did she pass out from the pounding in her head.

"Bellamy!" she called again, more hope and strength in her voice. Still, there was no response. How could he have dragged himself away from her, but not respond?

Nothing made sense any more. How could he have survived all of that radiation? She had Nightblood and it felt like she had been hit with an explosion – how had he survived?

Clarke thought back to her medical training on the Ark. The only reasonable explanation to his survival would be the development of his metabolism and how he processed radiation. He had spent most of his life on Factory Station where there were never full repairs. The citizens of the Ark that lived on this station were exposed to higher levels of radiation. Did this cause his body to adapt to handle high levels of radiation? Was this how he survived?

Honestly? She didn't care. All she cared about at that moment was making sure he was okay and making sure he _stayed_ alive. Just because he was awake now did not mean he would survive the night. That was what her mother always told her – things became more evident during the first night.

Fear started to creep into the corners of her heart. What if he didn't survive? She tried to push those feelings away. _She would not let the demons touch her – not until she knew for sure._

She stumbled forward, her legs moving sluggishly. Her feet wouldn't cooperate properly and were constantly being caught on the floor. Her knees wouldn't bend properly, nor would her hips move.

She felt like she was trying to walk with string for legs.

Clarke let out a groan and fell to the floor only a few steps away from where she woke up.

Damn it.

 _Come on,_ she begged in her head. _Come on!_

She closed her eyes tightly, trying to block out all of the pain she felt. The pain in her body from her injuries and the pain in her soul from her losses and failure.

Clarke needed to do this. She needed to find Bellamy.

She rolled back on to her hands and knees, ignoring the flashes of brilliant white light behind her eyelids. Inch my inch, she crawled towards the working desk. She wanted to move faster, but the fact that she was at least making _some_ progress brought a sense of calmness to her.

 _She had to get to him._

There were too many times where she hadn't gone to him. _Too damn many times to count._

When he was getting attacked by the Grounders outside of the dropship. He had been defending his people – their people – but was losing his battle quickly. She wanted desperately to go to him – to help him. _But she didn't._ Instead, Finn went. She lost two of her most important men that day.

When he had volunteered to go into Mount Weather – she didn't argue. She betrayed him there by not fighting for him. She betrayed him by allowing him to go. She didn't go to him there and admit she wouldn't want to lose him – instead, she sent him into battle. She failed him.

When he had fallen to Pike's influence, she let him struggle alone. She should have tried harder – she should have reached out more to him. But she let him suffer alone. She was too shamed and too embarrassed to fight for his forgiveness, but that was just an excuse. She didn't go to him then and she almost lost him for good.

 _But, damn it, she was going to go to him now, even if it was the last thing she did._

With new found strength, she used the edge of the desk to hoist herself into a standing position. Her legs shook beneath her, but she didn't slow down. As soon as she was upright, she was wobbling towards the end of the blood trail. She tripped over her own two feet and went tumbling into the corner of the desk.

The world tipped sideways in front of her. She gripped the edge of the desk tightly and clamped her mouth shut to keep from calling out. Her legs were struggling to keep her upright. Her side flared in pain from where her hip bashed into the desk.

 _But she could see him._

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his body laying on the ground. He was still wearing his protective suit – thank god. She could already feel the radiation impacting her body from being out of the protection of the suit. She couldn't imagine how he would be feeling.

He was rolled onto his side, his fists balled up and pressed into the ground. Like her helmet, his glass covering was covered in blood. The only difference between then was that his blood was still red. His back was covered in black soot with large chunks of ash glued to his elbows.

He wasn't moving. She couldn't even tell if he was breathing.

 _Damn it._

"No!" Clarke rasped out. She pushed herself off the wall and went flying into the room he was in. She landed on the ground roughly, knocking the wind out of her. She coughed violently, trying her best to catch her breath. "No!"

 _He couldn't be dead. He couldn't be._

Clarke scrambled over to him. She had a decision to make – take off his helmet and risk him getting worse with the increase of radiation, or not check his pulse and wait until he would wake up.

 _If he ever woke up._

That thought won her over. As she reached him, her hands flew to the pins that kept the helmet in place. She quickly undid them and ripped off his helmet. As soon as it rolled away, she was ripping off her gloves that covered her hands.

 _Screw it,_ she thought. She'd deal with the consequences after.

Her gloves went flying to the side, skidding across the ashy floor.

Without wasting another moment, her hands flew to his neck. Her two fingers pressed into the side and she held her breath as she waited.

There!

Relief flooded her system.

The pulse was weak. _But it was there._

Thank god.

Just as she was going to remove her fingers from his neck, things took a turn for the worse. Where she felt his pulse moments before was left unmoving.

She couldn't feel anything.

Her heart fell back to her stomach. Where had his pulse gone?

She repositioned her hand, her fingers digging into his neck. She begged for a pulse to show up, no matter how weak it was.

Nothing.

Dread filled her system. Was she too late? Had she just witnessed the man she loved the most die in front of her?

"No!" Her heartbroken scream filled the lab. She took her shaky hand away from his neck, balling her fingers up into a fist. She wouldn't give up hope – not yet. She repositioned her fingers and waited.

Still, nothing.

"Damn it, Bellamy!" Clarke screamed. She removed her shaking hands, pressing them to her chest – almost as if she was trying to keep her heart from falling to pieces. " _Damn it!"_ Despite trying to hold it back, she let a single sob bubble through her lips.

She felt like fate was cruel. How many people that she loved would have to die in her arms? She had witnessed her father's execution – she _watched_ the life leave his eyes. She had stabbed Finn in the heart – she _felt_ the life flow out of him. She held Lexa as she died – she _saw_ her final breath.

And here she was again. A different person – a different death.

 _No._

Something was nagging in the back of her mind. _This wasn't it. This wasn't the end. This wasn't supposed to happen._

She wanted desperately to believe the voice in her head, but the logical part of her brain refused to set herself up for more pain. Her heart cried out, begging for her to try something – anything. _This wasn't the end._

Clarke let out a scream of frustration, curling her fingers into the palm of her hand so hard that the nails drew blood.

He was dead. _He couldn't be dead._ But his lifeless body was before her. He had no pulse. No air filled his chest. Blood did not pump through his veins.

He was gone.

Dead.

Clarke let out a scream of anguish.

 _This can't be it._

She refused to believe it.

Her mind was so conflicted – mourn him or try to save him? Was there hope to hold on to or was her too far gone?

His fight was not over yet. _Her fight was not over yet._

Almost like a bucket of water, a memory hit her. It stilled her breathing and sent a chill up her spine.

Many months ago, Lincoln's heart had stopped. _And she had started it again._

Her tears completely halted.

Lincoln had died when he was fighting to break free from the Reaper's drug. His heart had completely stopped. _She watched the life leave his eyes._ But that wasn't the end for him – he survived that. She had started his heart again; he had overcome the Reaper drug; he had survived.

She did it before – she could do it again.

 _She could do it again._

Clarke went numb as her new mission took her over. All of her emotions were pushed to the side – she didn't have time for them right now. All she cared about was saving him. _She had to save him._ He had been right there, but he had slipped through her fingers. _She could save him._

Clarke glanced around the room wildly, praying that she would find what she needed. It was almost like those Greek Gods Bellamy was so fond of were listening because the thing she needed the most – a shock baton from the Guard – was laying across the room.

She didn't care how it got there. She didn't care who it belonged to. It could have been Miller's from when he was on the island for a brief period of time; it could have been something that Monty or Harper left behind as they boarded the spaceship; it could have been Bellamy's. _She didn't care._

All she cared about was the fact that something had finally gone the way she wanted to on this damned planet.

Clarke grunted as she pulled herself to her feet. She cursed when she felt her knees shake under her. They weren't going to be able to support her weight for much longer. They wouldn't be able to take another step. _Of course her body wasn't going to cooperate when she needed it most._

But she couldn't give up. He wouldn't give up if it was her on the floor – and she never would dream of doing so. This man was her best friend, her co-leader, the man she loved. _And, damn it, she was going to save his life no matter what._

She could sense the time ticking by. Sweat collected on the back of her neck, gluing her hair to her skin. Her legs shook from exhaustion. Her body screamed in protest.

 _But she was doing it._

With a groan, Clarke threw her body weight towards the counter that ran along the wall. Miraculously, her fingers hooked onto the edge and she managed to keep upright.

 _One step closer._

Clarke steadied herself before repeating the process. Her body slammed violently into the edge of the counter this time – she knew she was going to be bruised after this.

But, if she was being honest, it would be more significant to state where she _wasn't_ going to be bruised rather than where she _was_ going to be.

She grew closer and closer to the baton against the doorframe.

 _Please let this work._

Her fingers curled around the cool metal. She snatched the object tightly in her hand, pressing it close to her chest. _This was her saviour and she was never letting go._

She spun on her heel, the time ticking down. If she was going to save him, she had to do it soon. Knowing this, she took the risk of more injuries and threw herself towards his body. She skidded across the floor, her knees screaming in pain from slamming into the unforgiving tile beneath her.

 _Something was definitely broken._

She gritted her teeth and shifted her weight off her injury. Clarke pressed the power button on the baton and, to her relief, electricity began to crackle around it.

She glanced towards Bellamy's body. His lips were parted slightly and his eyes were closed. If she didn't know any better, she would say that he looked like a young boy. Despite his injuries, he looked peaceful – like he was sleeping the night away.

She knew different.

His lips were turning blue. His cheeks were an eerie white. His eyes already looked sunken into his head. He looked dead. He _was_ dead _._

Without a moment of hesitation, Clarke snapped the baton against his chest. His body jerked upwards. She held it for a brief moment before removing the baton. She searched his face – paying close attention to his mouth.

He still wasn't breathing.

Clarke snarled and pressed the baton against his chest again. The same result happened – his muscles tightened and his body jerked rapidly.

 _Please work._

She removed the baton, but there still wasn't any sign on life.

She was starting to lose hope.

"Come on, Bell!" she screamed. "Wake up! _Wake up!"_ With her last spark of determination, she slammed the baton onto his body.

His eyes flew open and he sputtered for air. His eyes searched the ceiling wildly and his hands were clenched tightly into fists.

"Yes!" Clarke threw the baton to the ground. For a moment, she was too shocked to move. Then she lunged towards the man on the floor, a laughing bubbling from her lips. "Yes! Oh thank god. Thank the gods. Oh god. _Oh god._ Bellamy!" Clarke didn't know when it happened, but tears had begun to stream down her face. Her vison swam and her hands shook.

She wrapped her fingers tightly around the material that covered his forearm. She couldn't believe it. It had worked. He was alive.

 _Bellamy was alive._

Clarke choked on a sob.

Her hand moved from his arm to his neck. Almost as if she couldn't believe the result that she seen right in front of her, she checked his pulse. She pressed her two fingers into his neck and waited with baited breath.

She couldn't hold back the sob of relief when she felt his pulse beneath her fingers. It was strong, steady, and the most amazing thing she had felt in her life.

"Bellamy," she sobbed out. Her fingers brushed lightly against his jaw. His eyes blinked rapidly before turning towards her. Brown met grey. Realization flooded his eyes and a small smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

"Cla-?" His hand lifted up jerkily, trying to reach for her. He was still weak from his injuries, so his hand only twitched. Without a second thought, Clarke reached for his hand.

Just like in Polis months ago, her hand tangled with his. Back then, he was bringing reassurance to her. Now, it was the opposite. She gripped his hand tightly in hers and hoped that her touch brought as much comfort to him as it did to her.

"Clar…" He struggled to get his mouth to form words. If he felt anything like her, Clarke knew that he would struggle to speak over the pain. She couldn't imagine the damage that was done to their bodies from Praimfaya.

"I'm here." She wrapped her other hand around their clasped ones, engulfing his with hers. "I'm here." His hand tightened around hers, acknowledging that he heard her. As soon as his gloved hand wrapped around hers, she broke down sobbing.

She couldn't believe what was happening.

Moments ago, she could have sworn that she would never feel his touch again. She didn't think she would ever be able to hold his hand, feel his pulse, see the spark of life in his eyes, or hear his voice again. She could have sworn he was dead. _He was dead for a while._

Just the thought of living in a world without Bellamy brought another wave of tears. _It's okay,_ she reminded herself. _I saved him. He's okay._

Clarke blinked rapidly to clear the tears from her eyes. She needed to see him clearly to heal the ache in her chest. She needed to see him without tears to reassure herself that she had done it – that he was alive.

"Clarke." His voice was raspy, but still carried a certain amount of tenderness. She smiled and inched towards him.

"I love you." The words were out her mouth faster than she could contemplate them. Why would she? She knew that her heart belonged to him. She knew that she had somehow fallen for the rebel king during the last several months. _She knew and she wasn't afraid to say it anymore._ "Oh, god, Bellamy," the words were tumbling out of her mouth. "I love you." The second time those words left her mouth, they carried more strength and confidence. _It was true._ She wasn't afraid of those words anymore – not as much as she was of losing him before he knew.

"I know." His voice was weak, but it still carried the same amount of passion. A lopsided grin was on his face. "I know, Clarke. I love you, too."

Without a moment of hesitation, she swooped down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. It was almost like his lips stilled everything else in her life. She wasn't thinking about their survival, nor was she thinking about the weight of the world. All she was thinking about was him. Their contact was brief but the message was permanent.

 _I love you._

 _I'm here._

 _We're together._

 _We survived._

* * *

 **Thank you for reading! I hope I managed to stay true to the original fic and provide some closure to all of you (is closure the right word? You know what I mean).**

 **If you're interested, I have a bunch more Bellarke fics that you can find by clicking on my profile! I'm always looking for new readers and some feedback!**

 **Leave a review for me here! I'm always looking for your feedback. It's so great (and such a motivation) to hear what you guys have to say about my work.**

 **Until next time,**

 **Paw**


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